Of Silence and Thievery
by Gecko Osco
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics who have a leader who just might be his hero after all. USUK, minor others. Cover Art by NoximillianRaven.
1. Chapter 1

Title : Of Silence and Thievery (1/10)  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: This is kind of an experiment. I've had this idea in my head for awhile and figured I'd give it a shot, and if it turned out all right, work on this as an original work. Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thieves **_

_**Chapter One: Wherein Thievery Occurs and Arthur's Day is Ruined**_

Arthur Kirkland was having a rotten day.

First, he'd had to deal with his oldest brother that morning while trying to open his quaint little bookshop, trying and failing miserably to assure his fellow vendors that the drunk and raging man outside his shop in fact was not related to him while simultaneously trying to beat William* within an inch of his life for ruining his morning completely. Then he'd had to deal with his youngest brother Peter, who seemed to live for knocking over his book stands and setting important receipts on fire just to see Arthur squirm. After, there was the utter nauseating chore of actually dealing with his customers…something which he many times contemplated just forgoing completely and not selling any of his books. He was sure he could find another way to earn his necessities…he could garden his own food perhaps…

As the day wore on things did not get much better, what with villagers now knocking over stands, his lunch overcooking (the pot was faulty…had nothing to do with him), and realizing that the supply of used books he received from a neighboring village that day had been, in fact, nothing but gross and disturbing smut. He had a terrible headache by the time he slammed his store's door shut that evening, wishing nothing more for the day to end and a chance that perhaps the next day wouldn't be quite so bad. Arthur pinched his green eyes shut before he started on the task of going through his records for the day, taking a small comfort in the silence that currently surrounded him. When his hand began to cramp up a bit, Arthur stole a quick, furtive glance around and outside his windows, ensuring that no one was around or peeking, then took a deep breath.

"_Write_," he murmured softly to his pen. He let go of the quill and, instead of falling down as it should in any other case, it continued to write, the gentle scratch echoing in the quiet of his empty shop. He glared at the pen for a moment, as if he was offended that it had actually listened to his command, before he pushed away from his register counter and made his way to the back office.

Arthur had a gift in his voice. His family had never known exactly what to call it, and to be honest, preferred to forget its existence entirely and Arthur hadn't ever known what to call it, but it was there and there was no changing it. He spoke like most others in Britannia, properly and clearly with no real special reason for his voice to be different, but underneath it all, there was a power there that was more a pain than anything else.

Of all the different countries and lands that existed, Britannia was not the best when it came to the acceptance of anything of the mythical nature and his village of Berth was by far the worst. Something mystical, despite what Arthur claimed to his family was nothing more than some kind of odd tick, was exactly what his voice was. Wish for it speak for it, simple as that and it could make all sorts of things possible, such as getting your pen to write up your inventory or making sure his flower garden stayed free of weeds without much gardening effort. Still, it didn't do him any good to go broadcasting to any of his neighbors that he practiced witchcraft on a daily basis, even if it wasn't _really_ witchcraft…oh bugger it all.

Arthur heaved out a deep sigh as he went about straightening his back room. As useful as his 'talent' was on a day-to-day basis, Arthur supremely wished he didn't have to deal with it. He didn't have the best of tempers (though he could hardly blame himself that the villagers were so idiotic they drove him to it) and his 'voice' did tend to unleash unwanted consequences when he was upset or particularly emotional…like when he accidental set William's shoes on fire by speaking a few choice words in the middle of a fight. It was hard to pass off flaming shoes as anything other than a mystical occurrence. Arthur put away the last of his wares and focused on the small pile of dust he had collected during his cleanings.

"_Go_." The dust sparked and disappeared in a flurry of color, leaving Arthur smiling softly at the sight before he thought better of it. If Arthur was completely honest with himself (which wasn't often), he didn't really mind his gift…it was dead useful and it made him feel a bit more than just another one of those 'Kirkland brats' the villagers seemed so fond of reminding him he was a part of. Still…he also preferred not being burned alive which meant it was a bit of a detriment.

Arthur dusted off his hands and made his way back towards the front of his shop, sure that by now his records for the day had been completed by now. More than anything, he wanted to grab one of his books and head upstairs to spend the rest of the evening in peace of his living quarters, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. He wasn't looking forward to the weekly Kirkland dinner he was all but forced to attend that night…why did his brothers all insist on eating together when it was well known how much they hated each other? He made a mental note to try and stop by the butchers before it closed, sure that his brothers were going to need something for dinner and they sure as hell weren't about to get off their lazy arses for it, but the thought met an abrupt end when he walked back into the main area of his shop.

There, holding the once writing quill in his hand, was a rather tall man with hair so pale it looked white and an oversized scarf wrapped around his neck. Arthur froze and felt his breath quicken in panic for a moment before he narrowed his eyes and grabbed the wooden club beside his back door his third oldest brother, Patrick*, had given him as a store-opening gift (aka, his anti-theft weapon), and tried to look as menacing as possible against the giant of a man. The man turned to face him with a child-like smile on his face and bright, violet eyes, eyes that looked at him with an interest that made Arthur's skin crawl.

"Good evening." The man's voice was soft and gentle, at stark contrast with how big he was, which did little to ease Arthur's apprehensions. He knew that the quieter or friendly the supposed thief, the worse one he or she was, and if there was one thing Arthur had an in depth knowledge of as owner of his little bookshop, it was thieves and how much he loathed them.

"Good evening my arse, get the bloody hell out of my store!" Arthur brandished the club menacingly, his admittedly large eyebrows drawing fiercely together in his glare. The man unfortunately did no such thing, just continued to smile creepily and stare at him. Arthur felt a chill creep down his spine at it, feeling the very air around him seem to flicker and change. He didn't show his unease however, gripping the base of the club tighter and bared his teeth angrily. He focused on the man and felt the power build behind his voice…if the man didn't leave on his own Arthur was prepared to make him. He may not like to use his gift in front of others, but he wasn't about to just roll over and let the man rob him.

"I said _get ou—"_

"Your voice, it is very nice, _da_?"

Arthur froze and stared wide eyed at the man invading his bookshop, the power in his voice stopped abruptly as it had been about to be unleashed, the words choking in his throat. In his shock, he dropped the club and his hands went up to his throat, circling around as he felt it constrict and air was stopped in his lungs. Arthur looked up at the man who was staring at him, eyes glowing, bloody _glowing_, and making his way closer to Arthur, who could hardly find the strength to move with those eyes pinned on him. He tried to move away when a chilled hand wrapped around his arm, his vision going spotty with the lack of air, but only succeeded in stumbling over his own feet, which felt heavy and leaden. Another hand wrapped around his throat, covering his hands, and tilted his head upwards to stare into those frightening violet eyes, Arthur's panic and dread reaching a crescendo when the man's smile widened and loomed over him.

The last thing Arthur knew was that smile…that and rather nasty bump to the head via a lead pipe.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

The first thing Arthur realized when his eyes blinked open who knows how much later was that his head hurt something fierce but that he was still alive. The second thing he realized, to his great frustration and worry, was that he was tied down by the arms to a table in his bedroom, surrounded by black candles and not far from him was the man from downstairs, eyes not glowing but still terrifying enough. He felt sluggish and heavy and each time he tried to move his arms tied above his head; they felt as if they were stuck to the table and even though his legs weren't tied down, he found he couldn't even get them to budge. The man chuckled a bit as Arthur's slow movements caught his attention, walking around from another table set up, holding some kind of knife in his hand; Arthur did not think the situation could get much worse before, but the wickedly curved knife told him otherwise.

"Ah, you are awake now? You should not struggle too much, you won't get to far, comrade."

Arthur attempted to give the man a piece of his mind, but his voice was muffled against a cloth…and while this normal didn't stop him, the cloth felt a bit odd, heavier than it should have been. The man smiled and leaned in close, the blade of his knife coming with him and reflecting back Arthur's pale reflection, moving the knife up to brush away some of Arthur's hair. Arthur could feel his breathing quicken and he tried to squirm back into the table, tried futilely to put some distance between him and the man. This seemed to amuse his captor and he chuckled softly at Arthur (who normally would have scowled at this but was too preoccupied thinking he was about to be ritualistically murdered to really give it much thought).

"I have watched you for some time, Mr. Arthur, and you are special, like me. Your voice, it can do things, _da_? All kinds of things…I admit my own cannot compare and even my other gifts cannot command like yours."

Arthur blinked and stared at the man in response.

"It is a shame you must hide such a wonderful gift, a shame that it hinders you and makes you different…don't you think?"

Arthur could feel himself begin to shake as the knife drifted down the side of his face, the tip lightly pressed to his skin, and settle against his neck. He slowly nodded his head as the man continued to stare at him, silently commanding him to answer the question; whether he agreed or not was hardly on his mind, he just wanted to ensure he kept that knife from cutting into his throat.

"You may not understand, but this is necessary. You cannot use your gift…but I can. I think you will be happier afterwards…"

Arthur mumbled pleas, curses, any string of words together behind the cloth to try and keep the huge man away from him, to keep him from coming any nearer, but it was useless. The man's eyes glowed again in that eerie purple glimmer and he cut the palm of Arthur's hand with the knife, eliciting a hiss from him. The man smiled and took up a spot standing beside Arthur's head, placing one hand over the bleeding palm and the other untying the cloth from around his mouth and clamping a hand over it before Arthur could let out any noise. The man mumbled on in some sort of gibberish, but all Arthur could focus on was how an odd sort of pressure began to build up in his head, through his body, in his very soul, and made it hard to focus on much of anything. Especially not how the candles around him flamed higher or how a wind had started to swirl around him and the man the more words he spoke; and especially not how a glow formed in his throat and was slowly pulled out of him and into the man.

It was all too much for one miserable day, really, so Arthur didn't feel too much shame in feeling the blackness of unconsciousness come back again as a ringing grew in his ears and his throat burned as if something was pulled away. His green eyes, hazy and unfocused, began to slide shut, but not before he felt a rush of sudden stillness and could hear a voice whisper against his skin.

"I will enjoy being one with you, Mr. Arthur…"

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

For the second time in less than a full day's cycle, Arthur awoke to a blinding headache.

He blinked his eyes open and looked around blearily, feeling as if he'd had more than enough whiskey to get all of his brothers, and himself, drunk, and unsteadily pushed himself up from the floor beside his bed. He was disoriented and nauseous and wondering just how much of what he thought happened the previous night was a nightmare and what was real when he looked down at his wrists. They were raw and blistered…key features of wrists tied and restrained by rope to a table. He looked around once more, much more alert and cautious than he had been before, looking to see if that _man_ was still around, lurking by in a corner with that bloody creepy smile.

To his relief, there was no evidence of the menacing man anywhere, and aside from the splitting headache, the raw wrists, and the black candle wax on his floor, there was no sign that the man had ever taken Arthur hostage. He pushed himself off the floor, feeling supremely lucky that he hadn't been killed or violated (the man had tied him up when he had already been rendered immobile…Arthur was fairly confident that made him a pervert), and stumbled his way into his washroom. The sun had already risen, which meant he was late in opening his shop, but he could hardly find it within himself to care…he was fairly sure any of his more prized books had been stolen last night.

He glanced at his wan reflection briefly before he splashed some cold water on his face, mentally promising to ream his no good siblings for being absolutely no help to him. He obviously hadn't shown up for their weekly dinner and not even a whisper of help sent his way to see if anything was amiss…no good arseholes. He rubbed at his eyes and toweled off his face of moisture and then he saw it. He dropped the towel down to the floor and looked closely at the thin but intricate band going across his neck, a vivid red against his pale skin. He gingerly touched; he flinched when it burned against his fingers. He felt something cold settle in his stomach as he stared at the band, the man's words from the night before etching themselves into his memory before he worked up the courage to try and say something.

Nothing sounded but air.

Arthur stared at his reflection and tried again. He tried to laugh, he tried to scream, he tried to say anything at all but nothing escaped, not even the terrified gasp as his hands encircled his voiceless throat despite the burn. He hurried out of his washroom made his way downstairs to his shop, uncaring that he was still dressed in his clothes from the day before, looking for anything telling the violet-eyed man may have left behind. There was nothing and he felt himself begin to panic slightly.

That man, that fiend, he had _stolen_ his damn voice!

_All right, all right, calm down old boy…I'm sure this can be fixed. A good healer or apothecary must have some kind of potion or…or…oh fucking hell, who am I kidding?_

Arthur took a couple of deeps breaths to clear his head, to replace his fear with righteous indignation, and stomped out of his shop, ignoring the morning greetings the other villagers inanely shouted his way. He wouldn't have responded even if he could so there was no worry that there'd be anything amiss. He half contemplated going straight to William's pub and explaining (through writing of course) all of what had transpired, but considering it was nearing noontide, his brother was surely well and shit-faced by this hour and would be no help. So, with a determination most probably would not have in such a situation, he stomped his way to the local constabulary. He had been stolen from after all, it was only logical he informed the authorities.

However, in his angered and confused and possibly still disoriented state, he forgot a very important fact about his kingdom; how much they loathed anything mystical (which he really should have remembered, considering he had been attacked and stolen from for BEING mystical in a sense). Instead, he had stormed into the low leveled building and scribbling angrily and gesturing at his throat, writing down a detailed description of the man who had attacked him, what had happened, and the like, thrusting the bits of paper in the guards' faces after he was finished. One of the burliest guards, who was undoubtedly the leader, read the papers and then looked at Arthur before he gestured to the smaller man.

"You ''eard' 'im men, bring 'im out."

Instead of beginning their deliverance of justice, they grabbed Arthur roughly by the arms and hauled him outside, the large guard calling out for the folks of Berth to gather in the town square. Arthur felt a brief moment of sheer disbelief as he was paraded down the cobbled streets that this, _this_, on top of everything else he had been put through was actually happening. He could hear the whispers as he was tugged along, and he could see how they all pointed at his neck, the red markings which stood out even brighter in the sun.

"Did you see those, Bernice?"

"Cursed, the poor boy's been cursed!"

"The color of blood they are…dangerous…"

Arthur was brought to a halt in the center of the village, a crowd of villagers surrounding him and the guards. The lead guard strode forward some time later, the village's mayor striding alongside with a pinched and carefully constructed mournful expression on his face. The man, a sort that looked as if he had consumed too much wine in his youth and had a permanently ruddy face as a result, tilted Arthur's chin up, looking closely at the red markings but not moving to touch them; he utterly ignored Arthur's voiceless curses and pleas (though the pleas were not as numerous as the curses). He looked back up, and gave Arthur a sad look, one which the dirty-blond haired man was purely for show and made him want to punch it clear off, and shook his head before he turned to face the crowd.

Arthur tuned most of what was said out. It was all generally about how it was unfortunate, a terrible tragedy, that Arthur had been attacked and cursed by a malignant sorcerer, but how they had to keep the greater good of the village in mind. That Arthur was cursed now, and marked so that whatever stole his voice originally could return and take him back whenever he wished and maybe even cause untold damage to the rest of the village. He was cursed, voiceless, and marked and it would be a mercy to just put him out of his misery.

He scanned the crowd to see if any of his siblings, utter gits they may be but still his family, were there, might speak in his defense or suggest that instead of outright killing him they could always just banish him…banishment was all right, at least one still breathed. None were though…and with a shuddering sigh that no one could hear, Arthur knew that if they were informed, they likely wouldn't do anything. He'd always been 'touched' with his voice…the one who could be a danger. This was their way to finally be rid of the one thing that could damn their family.

The walk back to the guards' building was equally somber, people following, some crying and all murmuring what a shame it was that such a young man had befallen to such a fate. Arthur wanted to do nothing more than tell them all exactly what he thought about their fucking platitudes , but alas, he could not speak, so he settled for glowering at them quite balefully (his large eyebrows furrowed quite menacingly you see). The crowd, unfortunately, was too busy acting sad for him and feeling relieved that someone tainted by magic would soon be take care of (for his 'voice' hadn't really been the best kept secret…his brother tended to blabber when drunk, which was often), to notice though. They dispersed as Arthur was herded into the building and subsequently led down into the dank dungeons reserved for dangerous criminals.

As Arthur was locked into a cell, he made a silent vow that he was going to make it is personal business to find that violet-eyed giant and serve as his personal poltergeist as long as he could. He sank down to the floor and pulled up his knees, resting his head on them as he fought with himself to not suffer an emotional breakdown on top of everything else. Yesterday, just yesterday his life had been set, somewhat boring and mundane, but set nonetheless. And now…Arthur looked around for a moment and gave a silent, rueful laugh at how much had changed in such little time. Now he was going to die for something he had no control over and there wasn't a thing he could to help him…how could you argue for your life without a voice? Oh yes, once he was dead, he was going to hunt down that bastard and haunt him until his eerie eyes bled!

It was a small comfort that his small cries and shakes were silent as well.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

The fitful 'last night sleep' he had been having (he had since started referring to everything in his head as 'last time' terms) was rudely interrupted when Arthur was awoken by several very loud, very obnoxious voices. He narrowed his eyes in confusion at the door of his cell, wondering in a sleep-addled manner just who the hell would be traipsing down the corridor of a prison in the middle of night, knowing that the guards had all left for home hours before. He pushed himself to his feet slowly, eyes trained on the door as the voices drifted closer and closer.

"—know is your damn 'vision' led us here so _you_ can damn well come on the patrol!" That speaker was loud and self-assured, speaking with a swagger that clearly thought highly of himself.

"You wound me, Gilbert, making a poor, blind man traverse these 'orrible smelling—" A cultured and accented voice which immediately Arthur felt himself disliking for some reason.

"If you both don't shut up I'm going to run you both through!" That was a woman, her voice also was accented but it had a pleasant lilt on the vowels.

"Come on guys, let's cool it all right? He's gotta be around here somewhere…let's see, oh! Definitely here, this one's locked!"

Arthur froze as the door, which was very heavy and very metal, was pounded on fiercely, twice, before it flung open wide and a bright light flooded his dark-accustomed vision, outlining the four figures in light. When Arthur blinked away the harshness and opened his eyes, he was met with the bluest pair of eyes he'd ever seen, belonging to a tall young man with golden hair, a handsome face, and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He was the kind of boy that young women and men did crazy things over and he was smiling a perfect smile at Arthur.

"Arthur Kirkland, right?"

"Well who the else could it be, hero?" The self-assured and cocky voice belonged to an equally cocky looking man with white blond hair and red eyes. "Not like there are a lot of scruffy little guys down here."

"Are his eyebrows as large as I saw?" The remaining male voice belonged to a man with long, blond hair, which he kept sweeping elegantly from his face, and a horrible looking goatee. His eyes were also blue but they were unfocused and had a light film covering them…he was blind. Arthur, however, felt no pity for the man as he had just insulted his eyebrows and justified his instant disliking as stated previously.

"Shut up, Frances, it's not the time." The woman was shorter than the men but nearly as tall as Arthur was, with a long, dark braid that spilled down her back and olive skin which complemented her dark eyes. She was beautiful in a dangerous sort of way, like a wild cat or wolf might be.

"Guys, chill out, you're freaking him out." The young man shot them all a disgruntled look before smiling back at him like Arthur was some sort of skittish colt. "Hey, no worries, they're all cool…so, you're Artie Kirkland right?"

Artie…he hated the name Artie.

He scowled and swatted the hand coming near him away, opening his mouth and fully intending to let these four have a piece of his mind, when all that came out was air…which immediately made him sullen again. He didn't really take into account how much he had insulted people and how much he really relied on it to defend himself until now. The young man's smile abruptly changed at the sight of Arthur's failed attempts to speak and he leaned in closer, tilting up Arthur's chin before the shorter man could move away. Arthur heard a knowing set of hisses and grunts as the red band came into view, but he was mainly focused on how warm and positively delightful the young man's broad, calloused hand felt against his cold skin. Arthur inhaled sharply at the thought and pulled away quickly, resting his back against the stone wall, admonishing himself for the completely unnecessary thought (there was already enough going on, he didn't need to add _this_ too).

"Well, looks like you were a little late there, Frances."

"'Ow was I to know that Ivan would attack so soon? My Sight is not what it was, you know, _mon ami_." Arthur noticed that Frances spoke very slowly and looked directly at Gilbert when he responded.

"At least he's not dead, others were not so lucky…he must have had something Ivan wanted…"

Arthur scowled deeper as they spoke about him as if he wasn't present; just because his voice was gone didn't mean he couldn't hear, the daft fools. He pointed at his throat angrily and made several sarcastic attempts to speak, demonstrating what exactly was missing.

"We know he took your voice, Artie, we just want to know why." The young man was still smiling but it was harder and not nearly as friendly, clearly not focusing his attention any longer on Arthur…Arthur ignored the little wilt of disappointment he felt at that. "Anyhow, first things first, we gotta get you outta here! You do know they want to execute you, right?"

"I think he's fully aware Alfred, it's not as if he's deaf like Gilly." The dark skinned woman flashed Arthur a bright almost feral grin before she whirled out of the room with her curved sword in hand, winking at Gilbert as she passed.

"Even though I can't hear you, I know when you're talking about me, Esther*," the man quipped after her. "Just awesome like that." He flashed Arthur a cocky grin before he pulled out a long sword and headed out the door after the woman, Esther, looking quite eager to start hacking anyone who might get in his way. The other man, Frances gave a flourished wave and followed after, moving with more surety and confidence than Arthur thought a blind man should have. The young man, Alfred, looked at him expectantly while he bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet, flashing Arthur a grin.

"Well, you gonna come with us…or would you rather get your head cut off? I know you probably don't trust us, that you don't know us, and you probably don't even know what's going on but I can tell you that _we_ do. The guy who took your voice, we're tracking him down and we'd be more than happy to let you join in. You probably got a bunch of questions and astuff too, but we can answer those later…right now, I want to know if you wanna bust outta here or not?"

Arthur weighed his choices briefly. True, he did not know these people and by all accounts they seemed to be a group of dangerous lunatics and were talking about leaving the only home he'd ever really known, but still…they seemed to not only know what had happened to him but also who the violet-eyed man was who did it to him. That, and apparently they were offering to save him from the chopping block; it wasn't a hard decision, really. He gave Alfred a firm nod and followed him out of the cell and out of the guard house where Francis was waiting for them, motioning for them to both be silent (which Arthur did not appreciate). The white-haired Gilbert was further up the road, scouting and motioning for the others to follow while Esther was farthest ahead, her sword glittering dangerously in the moonlight.

They continued in this vein for some time and Arthur started to feel a thread of hope that maybe he could sneak out of the village without incident…but as they made their way nearly halfway across the village and a dog (who had obviously been tailing them for some time in his dog-like fashion) ran up and tackled Gilbert with a large bark, he felt he really should have known better by this time. Gilbert swore angrily and loudly, most likely because he couldn't hear how loud he truly was, which of course alerted anyone within a one mile vicinity and then, out they poured, villagers and guards alike (though as they were all in night clothes it was hard to distinguish who was who) all calling out what was happening.

"Get going!" Alfred yelled, giving Arthur a healthier-than-normal shove that nearly sent him flying forward. Francis grabbed Arthur's wrist and dragged him along, weaving and dodging as if he had two perfectly working eyes while Alfred punched the ground, literally punched the ground, which then seemed to cause a mini earthquake. Arthur blinked a few times as he watched the young man stand up and smile, shaking his hand off while he followed them at a run.

Gilbert pushed off the beefy dog and took off at a sprint to where Esther was waiting for them at the edge of the village, steadying five black horses and calling for them all to hurry up, slapping her horse's rump for emphasis. They were ahead of the villagers, who all seemed much too intent on getting Arthur back so they could execute him right and proper than seemed fair, but Arthur knew that with the time it would take for them to mount the horses and get going, their lead wouldn't mean much. He had just about had it. He stopped running and yanked his arm out of Francis' hold and stomped back towards the stampeding villagers, ignoring Alfred's look that clearly said he did not understand what the shorter man was doing.

The past day had been wretched. Nothing had gone right at the store that day, his brothers were prats, his voice had been stolen by a mad man, and he'd been condemned to death and now wouldn't even get the chance to pay back that giant bastard since the villagers were complete morons. He didn't have a voice and there wasn't much he could without it, but he did have his anger and that was enough. He screamed at them silently, screamed all his anger, all his frustration, all his uncertainty and how he just wanted to be left the hell alone and then, funnily enough, each and every one of the villagers were halted and thrown backwards by a huge gale of wind that swept by Arthur but moved nothing more than the hair on his head.

He inhaled deeply to catch his breath after he was finished (because even if you couldn't hear his scream didn't mean he hadn't done it and now he was quite out of breath), still angry and shaking as he glared at the villagers mouthing one word before he turned back around and made his way to the waiting horses.

_Stay._

And sure enough, they did, pushing themselves up only to have their limbs give out and send them back to the ground. It was only once he got to the waiting horses and mounted that the anger started to fade that realized that his odd little tick, the whole reason that man had attacked him in the first place, was still there, buried deep within.

The others mounted and nudged their horses into a gallop, each of them looking at him with varying degrees of interest; Arthur had to look away quickly when Alfred's eyes zeroed in on him, feeling a rush of heat flood his cheeks. Oh bollocks, this was just ridiculous...he did NOT need this at the moment.

"Well, guess we know _why_ Braginski went after him…guy's got a set of powerful pipes, don't he? Don't you worry, Artie, we'll fill you in on everything once we get back."

Alfred didn't say anymore about where or what 'back' was, but Arthur couldn't find it within himself to question it. The weight of everything that had happened to him in the past day and a half had finally started to come to fruition and he simply felt too drained to care. He was alive for now and surrounded by a group who at least seemed to understand what had happened and who had attacked him…that was enough for now. No, for now he was just going to go with it…and try hard to not stare into perfect blue eyes of course.

Gods, it was going to be a long day…

TBC…

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Whatever FFN new rules regarding borders is, it's retarded and I do not approve.

*Scotland

**Ireland

***Israel (I imagine her as on bad ass chick)


	2. Chapter 2

Title : Of Silence and Thievery (2/10ish)  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: This is kind of an experiment. I've had this idea in my head for awhile and figured I'd give it a shot, and if it turned out all right, work on this as an original work. Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thieves**_

_**Chapter Two: An Introduction of a Most Unusual and Daft Band**_

Arthur blinked open his eyes and was somewhat surprised to find himself not on the back of a horse, but in a bed within a small room that looked very much like the inside of a ship. Sure enough, there was a splash of water and the sound of seagulls outside his little porthole; Arthur rose from the bed and rubbed his eyes sleepily as looked outside. He looked around the small, but homely-fashioned room while his sleep-fogged mind caught up with the rest of him, yawning once and loudly…well, it would have been if he had a voice.

He blinked again, this time more in the fashion of someone who had just been slapped, and swore silently to himself (which was really just to go through the motions of swearing…not like he could hear it). That's right, he'd had his voice stolen, almost been executed, and been 'rescued' by an unusual group of potential felons. He must have fallen asleep on the horse (he'd had a very trying few days, it could be excused)…and now he was on a ship. He could only hope he hadn't been rescued to only become part of an illegal slave ring…but if he had it would've just figured. With that thought, he flopped back down on the bed, frowning slightly at the wood planks above him.

For a few moments, Arthur did nothing but stare up at the ceiling, his mind racing over the facts that not only would he likely never return home (he was quite sure the story of how he flattened out a whole angry mob would've reached mythic proportions in little under a week) and most likely never see his family again. Granted, they weren't the closest of siblings, and really only tolerated each other now in memory of their departed parents, but still…they were his brothers. William, Rhys*, Patrick, and Peter…he wondered if they'd even miss him. Probably not. They'd likely already torn down his bookshop and converted it into another pub; he sniffed silently and told himself that they could do whatever they bloody liked with it (and he certainly wasn't the least bit sad over this…).

He was without a home…without a place to return to after this (should he even survive) was all taken care of and he had his voice back. He sighed silently and pushed himself up and out of bed; wallowing in self-pity certainly wasn't going to help anyone, least of all himself. Time to pull himself up by his bootstraps…it was all he could do.

He looked down at himself and the now very dirty clothes he'd been wearing for at least two days and wrinkled his nose a bit…he was a very clean person and him being ostracized from his home country and left voiceless and potentially homeless wasn't going to change that. However, his eyes caught on a folded pile of clean if plain clothing, resting on a chair beside the bed. He didn't waste his time mentally debating whether the clothes were for him or not, quickly changing into the dark brown pants and the tan and green tunic and jerkin provided. He pulled on his boots and strode out of the room, not bothering to attempt to flatten his unruly hair (it was a pointless pursuit he had decided long ago), and made his way up the ship.

He met with no one as he wandered the halls of the ship, which was a tad worrying considering all that had happened, but after a few flights of stairs, he heard activity and saw sunlight filtering through one of the doors. Steeling himself, he pushed the door open and stepped out onto the deck, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, eyes squinting around as he noticed people, man and women alike, bustling about the deck. Some, he noticed, were very old, which struck him as odd since the life of a sailor was no easy feat he'd come to understand (from his many books of course). Some paused to glance at him, but for the most part, he wandered about without hindrance…security was awful, he thought belatedly.

"Artie!" Arthur cringed and frowned in annoyance at the nickname, turning around to face the young man, Alfred, from the rescue mission. "Nice to see you're awake and welcome aboard the _Evangeline_! We got kinda worried when he slumped over on the horse, but Esther said you'd been through a lot and be happy you didn't throw up or anything. How ya feeling?"

Arthur stared for a moment, cursing any and all gods who made those eyes so damn blue, before he shook his head and glared, motioning once more to his throat. He gestured to the boat and then to himself, silently, but very clearly, asking where he was and what the hell had happened. Alfred blinked at him for a few moments before he sighed dramatically and wrapped an arm around Arthur's slim shoulders. Arthur felt his face heat up and he attempted to struggle out of the hold (before he well and did something truly embarrassing…or harmful), but the boy's hold as strong and steadfast as his smile.

"Sorry, I can't figure out a thing you're trying to say…but I know who might help us out with that!" Alfred smiled brightly at him before he steered Arthur along the ship's prow, calling out to the various crew with a cheery wave and greeting. "Don't worry, I'll introduce ya to everyone later! They're all here for the same reason you are."

Arthur motioned at his throat, sardonically of course, as Alfred maneuvered them around a very tall, large, mocha skinned man who was smoking steadily on a cigar, messy black hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"No, but Braginski's stolen something or other from either them or someone they knew…you're not the only one who wants revenge. Now, in we go…"

Braginski…Ivan Braginski. So, that's who had attacked him; Arthur felt a flash of hot anger run through him as he remembered that child-like smile a eerie purple eyes. He growled silently and tightened his hands into fists beside his hips…he was going to make Ivan Braginski rue the day he had ever stepped into Arthur's bookshop. He damn well guaranteed it!

Arthur was steered back inside the ship on the upper deck where the captain's quarters no doubt was located, along with the navigation room, but they continued on down the hall until they reached a small room with a young man with shoulder length black hair seated inside. Well, young man was somewhat of a generalization…seeing as the young 'man' had the ears and tail of a black fox. Arthur knew he shouldn't stare…especially when the man turned and fixed pale eyes on him and Alfred…yet he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Artie, this is Kiku Honda, our medic on board! Kiku, meet Artie, our newest addition!"

The fox-man, Kiku, stood up and bowed politely, smiling in gentle, diplomatic manner. "Good day, Igirisu-san. I have heard about your misfortunes and apologize for your loss."

Arthur inclined his head in acknowledgement before Alfred leaned forward, a confuse look on his face. "'Igirisu?' His name is Artie man…"

Kiku nodded and smiled at Alfred. "It is a name for the land he is from for my people. I had not yet known his name, I apologize for the confusion." Kiku turned back towards Arthur and inclined his head. "I know of your people's hesitancy towards those of a, ah different nature…it must have been difficult, living with a gift such as yours."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. He certainly hadn't known any of these people (or foxes as it were…) long enough to start sharing his life story.

"Am I correct in thinking that Alfred-san brought you here so I could help you with your communication issue?" Arthur nodded while Alfred wandered off a bit, poking at an odd assortment of plants on resting along the windowsill. "Then I think you'll be pleased to know I have already acquired something that will help you, here, Arthur-san."

Arthur took the sleek, black board from Kiku's outstretched hands, admiring the shiny and smooth black stone the tablet seemed to be made of, taking a bright orange quill from the fox-man as well. He looked at both for a moment before he looked back up at Kiku with a question on his face. He didn't know how he was supposed to write on a black stone without any ink…

Kiku smiled again and took Arthur's wrist holding the quill and made a swiping motion across the black tablet, leaving an arc of fiery, orange light in its wake that lingered on awhile…certainly long enough for someone to read what he wrote. The bright light caught Alfred's attention and he hurried back over, watching with a wide smile as Arthur experimented with the quill a bit. Arthur felt a small smile tug at his lips at the sight…just a small one though, barely noticeable.

"That's awesome, Artie! I told you Kiku would have just what you needed!" Alfred grinned widely while Kiku simply nodded in silent thanks. Arthur frowned and scribbled on his pad before thrusting it in the young man's face.

**It's Arthur, you obnoxious idiot. **Looking at the offended look that crossed Alfred's face, Arthur felt better already.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Arthur did not feel comfortable with everyone staring at him, and by everyone he meant everyone…somehow Alfred had squashed every single crew member into the navigation room, but he supposed it couldn't be helped. Alfred had insisted on introducing Arthur to the whole ship at once after they had left Kiku's office, the fox-man trailing behind him (who Arthur learned was from an Eastern tribe of other Fox-people who preferred to be referred to as Kitsunes in Common tongue that lived in a country called Japan…which Arthur had only vaguely heard of), despite Arthur's wishes.

"It won't be bad, Iggy," Alfred had winked at him. Which of course triggered a blush (and a scathing, written insult for calling him 'Iggy'…hadn't he just written that his name was Arthur?), which made Kiku smile at him in an annoyingly knowing fashion. Now, here he was, standing beside the tall young man and clutching his black tablet to his side, looking at all the curious faces staring back at him.

"Everyone, this is Arthur! He'll be joining us in hunting down Braginski, the bastard stole his voice. Arthur, this is everyone!" Alfred swept his hand grandly at all the faces before he hooked an arm around his shoulders (yet again…it was really starting to become a nuisance because every time the young man did, it made Arthur's skin heat up and his heart race), and walked him around to say hello to the group of people waiting. First up was a very pretty woman who was looking him over with one dark brown eye critically, two dark braids falling on either side of her very tan face. She had a leather patch over where her other brown eye should be staring at him.

"First off, I'd like to introduce our lovely captain, Seychelles*, who kindly lets us sail all around the world all in hopes she gets the chance to take one of Braginski's eyes in revenge for him taking one of hers!" The woman, who was really more of a girl to be completely honest, as she looked around Alfred's age, inclined her head and offered Alfred a fierce smile.

"Nice to have you on board, could always use an extra pair of hands. Al seems to think you could be useful." Seychelles gave him a smirk and flounced away, barking out orders a group of burly men, who were obviously her original crew prior to having her eye stolen. Arthur gave Kiku a questioning look (because he had proven to be much more reliable than Alfred) as to why someone would steal an eye from a woman.

"She had the fortunate birthright of having one eye act much like an internal compass…she was unparalleled in navigation among captains, most likely why Ivan targeted her in the first place"

Arthur nodded, deciding it was just best to go along, even if the idea of a 'compass eye' was a little too much to comprehend, turning his attention to Francis, one of his 'rescuers' from the previous night. The man still looked arrogant and vain, running a hand through his long blond hair and leering at Arthur with unseeing eyes.

"This is Francis, you remember him right?"

Arthur nodded tersely and tried his best not to frown…it wasn't kind to mock the disabled, his mother had always said. Francis gave a put upon sigh and wrapped an arm around Arthur, tugging him away from Alfred and winking at him in a highly inappropriate manner. "Yes, I know you can see, and yes, I am blind. I 'ave always 'ad the gift of Sight, glimpsing the future and all its wonders, but that man, he stole it from me. It is tragic, _non_?"

"Luckily for him, he can still see the future every now and then…which does help him walk around without bumping into stuff." Alfred tugged Arthur out of Francis' arms with a small frown. Arthur scowled and shrugged his arm off as well. He was NOT some sort of child or plaything…even if he did rather enjoy the feel of Alfred's warm arms. Still, it was the principle of the fact. "And this here is Gilbert. He's deaf but can lip read pretty good so you two should get along just fine!"

Gilbert grinned cockily and leaned against the large, oval shaped table in the room. "Used to be the best damn hunter in all of Germania, could hear a boar from a mile away, or the whistle of another man's arrow halfway across a forest…but I guess my awesomeness was too much for ol' Creepy Smile to ignore."

"Esther, who you've met as well." Alfred motioned to the fierce woman from the night before. She nodded at him but did no more in welcome, returning her attention back to polishing her large, curved sword. Alfred shrugged at Arthur is response to the woman's lack of response. "Braginski stole her speed…she can still move pretty quick, just not as quick as before, but she never forgets to remind us how painfully slow we all are."

Arthur smirked slightly in response as Alfred laughed, pointedly ignoring Esther's glare, which was enough to make most grown men whimper in fear. Alfred gestured to a pair in the room, a short young man and an old woman beside him.

"And this is Vash, our weapons master, and his little sister Lily*…"

Arthur had a hard time working his head around the fact that the young, scowling blond man dressed in green was the older brother of the withered and ancient looking woman beside him with two long, white braids down her wrinkled face. However, upon closer inspection, Arthur noticed that the woman's green eyes were not the eyes of a grown woman but that of a child, innocent and full of life. The slight, young man, Vash, nodded tersely, his face drawn together in what looked like a permanent scowl, one good enough to give Arthur's a run for his money, while the old woman, girl, smiled sweetly.

"Braginski steals more than just talent…he steals life as well. Lily here is really a twelve-year old girl." Alfred's eyes held sadness as he looked at the girl for a moment before he gave Arthur a more serious of looks. "We're all after Braginski because he stole something from us, something he wanted and something we want back. Alejandro*, the big one there with the ponytail, Braginski stole his fire-breath, he stole Kiku's sense of smell which is a lot like his people's eyesight, and he took Rosa's*, the little brown one back there, he took her smell too…she could smell magic; used to be really useful where she lived…they didn't care much for magic, she was like their hunting dog!"

The petite, dark skinned woman with green-flecked brown eyes scowled prettily at Alfred and began to no doubt swear (Arthur was quite good at knowing when others were insulting…it was all in the voice) at him, but Alfred looked unaffected. Arthur was beginning to think that the man was either just too much of an arrogant git to care or he was too dense to notice…either way, it was a very convincing reason for Arthur to tell himself that he just thought the man was attractive. Precisely, nothing beyond that…

"—and now you." Arthur focused his attention back on Alfred, who was still speaking…and striking a rather ridiculous pose. Arthur snuck a glance around and the others present just seemed used to this behavior, rolling their eyes lazily or simply ignoring the blond man completely. "He took your voice because it had power right? We saw what you could still do…you say it and it happens. We can't help you return home or anything, but we can help you hunt the bastard down, so whaddya say?"

Arthur looked around briefly as all eyes turned to him (even blind ones) before he huffed and scribbled fiery orange words on his black tablet. **First off, who the bloody hell is Ivan Braginski?**

"A sorcerer of some type…maybe even a necromancer," Kiku replied calmly. "He appeared some years ago and has been stealing different abilities and youth from all over the worlds…nearly every nation has been affected in some fashion. Why though, is uncertain beyond each new ability he steals increases his power."

"All that matters is that he's a damn thief and needs to be taught that stealing is bad." Gilbert grinned darkly at the group, chuckling to himself as he twirled a knife against the oval table. "Very bad."

"I agree," Esther hissed. Her dark eyes flashed in anger and she rose from her seat, fixing Arthur with a look that basically told him what he'd be if he didn't agree to go hunting with them (not that he wasn't considering it…he just wanted a better idea of what exactly he'd pledged vengeance against is all). "He will continue to steal and harm if he is not stopped, how many more children will suffer Lily's fate, how many more of us will have something that is ours alone taken from us without mercy?"

"So dramatic, _mon cher_, I could care less for the 'untold' others…I simply would like my Sight returned."

"And that is why you are an unmitigated pig, Francis."

"You do wound me, _cheri_." Esther rolled her eyes in disgust at Francis's leer and purring words; Arthur couldn't blame her really.

"Guys, not helping our image here!" Alfred frowned at the group before he turned back towards Arthur, a wide, pleading smile on his face that promptly made Arthur forget for a moment that the young man was an obnoxious ass. "So, how about it? I mean, at the very least you won't get weird looks because you can't talk or anything…"

Arthur glanced around at the very motley crew once more, sighing to himself before he wrote down his response. It wasn't really like he had much of a choice…sail around with a group of people who knew what had happened to him and were working on reversing it or being dropped off in some other nation and hoping for the best in being cursed the rest of his life. Honestly, how many of these people had really said no? He gave them all a very determined look as he showed them his answer, smirking slightly at the whoop he received in response.

**I suppose I've nothing better to do other than hunting the bastard down, do I?**

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Arthur suffered through the community dinner that night, marveling in horror how much of the food served did not end up in people's mouths (food fights seemed a regular occurrence, especially between Gilbert and Vash…who it seemed inevitably dragged Esther into it as well), and how ridiculously loud they all were. He was a bit relieved when Alfred offered to give a tour of the ship with Seychelles, who also appeared to have had her fill of flying potatoes, even if it was a bit counter-productive (Arthur was cursing himself for not having more 'fun,' like his older brothers, in Berth…he should NOT be reacting like this just because the young man was attractive).

Seychelles turned out to be just as entertaining as she was pretty (which was quite a lot) and her humor complimented Arthur's own, even if he couldn't contribute anything to the conversation. Although, she did like calling him 'Fuzzy-brows' which Arthur wasn't thrilled with…but still, it was better than what Alfred had kept on calling him, despite how many times Arthur wrote down (with an increasing amount of underlines each time) that his name was Arthur, not bloody 'Iggy.'

"Iggy!" Arthur cringed and turned to face the blue-eyed youth, ignoring Seychelles soft laughter directed towards him (she had already deduced not only his damnable attraction to the young man but also how it was, and he was for that matter, driving him mad, much to his chagrin).

**How many times must I say it, it's Arthur you utter moron!**

Alfred just smiled at him playfully before he flicked him on the nose. Arthur felt a swell of injustice at that act…injustice and butterflies but that wasn't really important. "Well, you're really not 'saying' anything, are you, Iggy?"

Arthur growled silently before he stomped off, ignoring Seychelles half-hearted attempts to get Alfred to stop his teasing and Alfred's chuckles as he followed after him. He had already been shown most of the ship, even the brig which had smelled utterly vile and Arthur had wished he had not seen, and was now led back to the navigation room, which looked larger now that there weren't nearly twenty people crammed inside. Alfred shrugged off the leather jacket he seemed to wear around everywhere, revealing a pair of muskets, which he also shrugged off, collapsing in a chair while Arthur sat down much more civilized. Seychelles swept in and tossed off her long coat, looking at both of them with a critical eye (Arthur was having trouble not imaging what was under that patch).

"So now, what are we going to do with you?" Seychelles leaned back and cocked her head to the side inquisitively. "What did you do in Britannia? What was your trade?"

Arthur scribbled on his black tablet. **I owned my own book shop.**

Seychelles made a humming sound in the back of her throat, glancing at Alfred for a moment before she straightened up and pinned Arthur with her one eye. "So, no manual labor then?"

Arthur glared at her and wrote, **I worked in my brother's pub prior, doing plenty of manual labor. **

"Meh, you've got enough guys helping you out, 'Chelles, I'm sure we can figure something else out." Alfred winked at Arthur and he looked away with a huff. Yes, he wasn't the brawniest of men, but he could handle himself just fine…when you were a Kirkland, you learned to work with what you were given…Rhys had been huge. "So, then, got any questions for us, Arthur?"

Arthur thought about it and nodded, taking a moment to write down his question, showing it to the young man when he was done. He had been wondering it ever since nearly every crew member told him what Ivan had taken from them, but not one mention of it from his guide and the self-proclaimed leader and hero of the group. He was curious…there had to be a reason, or else why would he even be here? **What did Ivan steal from you?**

Seychelles cleared her throat and excused herself after Arthur picked up that he had possibly just asked a very personal question, if the look that came over Alfred's face was any indication. Arthur watched her leave before he looked back at Alfred, who laughed ruefully and tilted back in his chair, resting his muddy shoes on the table the light glinting off his glasses as they tilted down the bridge of his nose. Arthur hated how fetching he looked like that.

"Yeah, guess I didn't tell you, uh? Well, Braginski took something from me too. He took my strength, sure you noticed some of that when you met him."

Arthur stared at the young man in disbelief before he wrote down his response. **I'm sure I saw you punch the ground and create a small earthquake.**

Alfred chuckled and shrugged in a sheepish way. "Yeah well…I still have some of it, I guess. Not most of the time, just every now and then…kinda like how you could flatten out that mob without having to actually speak. Most of the time I just don't feel strain in lifting up heavy stuff, earthquakes are only for special occasions!" He grinned and put his feet back on the ground.

Arthur nodded softly before he scribbled down his next words (it was bloody annoying to have to do this every time he wanted to 'say' something). **I tried to 'say' something earlier and nothing happened…**

"Yeah, it's like heightened emotions or something that can trigger it, Kiku says. Like, you were angry right? And I was worried about everyone and a little bit concerned because those guys had pitchforks, so I could do a bit more…like I used to."

Arthur nodded his head again in silent understanding (because he wasn't going to write down 'oh'…that would just be ridiculous), wondering just how strong the young man was prior to being attacked. He spoke about this Ivan character with more anger and vitriol than the others, as if the man had done something worse than just stealing his strength and insulting his personal safety…Arthur was angry all right but he didn't think the name as a curse. He thought about asking why, but thought better of it. He hardly knew this man, hardly knew anyone really…it wouldn't be appropriate. He bit his bottom lip and looked away, letting out a deep breath as he did so.

Alfred shook his head and smiled wide, tilting his head to the side and resting it in the cup of his palm, blue eyes twinkling merrily and making Arthur feel utterly foolish. "I think we're gonna pull into Gaul tomorrow, it's where Francis is from you know, we can see about getting you some stuff. I know you left pretty much everything behind when we busted you out and we can't keep giving you ash's spare stuff or he'll go ballistic."

Arthur nodded, willing away the slight tinge he felt creep up his neck at the attention. **Thank you…I'll find a way to repay you.**

"Well, you can just dock it from your future wages if you're so concerned," Alfred smiled. "Seychelles lets us borrow her ship but she still does her day job as a merchant, we all help out around here…we'll figure out something for you."

Arthur gave Alfred a look before he scrawled his response. **Believe it or not, a bookkeeper can help in a variety of ways. We read.**

Alfred laughed again. "I guess so, huh? Well…what do YOU think you could to help around here?"

Arthur hesitated and looked around the navigation room. What could he really do? Sure, he'd read a number of books of nautical origin and of oceans, but it was very likely any of these men and women knew just the same information from living it every day. He wracked his brain for a moment, but then his eyes landed on a large map in the center of the room, various scribbling scattered around it, but mostly looking quite abandoned. He recalled what they said regarding the captain, how she had been an unparalleled navigator prior to her run-in with Ivan…he wondered for a moment. He had always been good with maps.

**If you're in need of a navigator, I could help.**

"Really?" Alfred looked surprised and contemplative at the thought, glancing at the map on the wall of the room before he looked back at Arthur. "'Chelles could use the help, she's been struggling ever since she was attacked…it came naturally to her before, she doesn't like having to learn it all over again. Do you know enough about different geographies and stuff?"

Arthur thought back to the numerous books he had read regarding other nations (in his deepest moments of rebellion when he thought if he stayed with his brothers any longer he'd become a murderer)…all about their cultures, landmarks, and most importantly, the routes and roads that connected them all together. He smiled in a fierce manner, possibly the widest smile he'd had since his voice was stolen, and nodded his head in response.

**I can…and I can prove myself tomorrow if I can pick up a few extra things for this room.**

Alfred raised his eyebrows and nodded his forward in agreement. He eyed him for another few moments, enough for Arthur to feel self-conscious with how pale he likely still was (he had not looked well that morning and that damn red band had been downright glaring) and his very Kirkland eyebrows. Then, he stood up and smiled playfully at him, teasingly…Arthur hated it when he smiled teasingly and he still barely even knew him. "Come on, it's practically your bedtime! Kiku said you'd still be lethargic and burnt out from everything, time for sleep, old man!"

Arthur looked up in offense. **I am NOT old! I'm barely older than you, you brat!**

"Well, you kinda act like an old man, it'd be easy to confuse you with one." Alfred had the audacity to smile at him as he bounded out of the room, picking up his muskets and coat after him. Arthur fumed and stomped after him (he actually was quite sleepy), cursing that Ivan Braginski for taking away the only way he could combat teasing…it wasn't like he could chuck the tablet at the idiot's head with his retort…or maybe…

Arthur smirked and wrote down his insult hurriedly, chasing down the still laughing man and readying his aim.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

They docked into the nation Gaul late afternoon the next day, Arthur gazing out at the rolling hills and dense forests in the distance with mild curiosity, comparing these lands with his own. Britannia had plenty of grassy hills and forests as well, but it was darker in a way…richer and full of blues and dark greens; Gaul was a bit too bright for his tastes (that and it was home for Francis, who had proved in a very short amount of time just how much of a pervert he was…Arthur couldn't stand him already). Still, it was something he had only read about in books so it was interesting to finally see.

Alfred departed with Gilbert, Francis and Rosa when they docked, yelling out that they'd be picking up supplies; he'd given Arthur a gentle smile before he'd left, which of course made the slighter man feel like a ruddy fool. Esther, who had been assigned to accompany Arthur (otherwise known as baby-sit him), had simply looked at him in a knowing, teasing fashion as the group left before she dragged him along after her. He was getting well and tired of being dragged every which place…he as a grown man, he could walk himself just fine.

"Now, we're to get you some things to wear and some personal affects. Also, I believe the captain wants to make sure you're armed so a stop at the smithy is necessary…and Alfred mentioned something about maps?"

Arthur nodded and wrote down his response on the tablet. **For navigation purposes.**

Esther nodded and guided him through the unfamiliar portside city, picking up various sets of clothing, some specific books and affects, and a set of short swords and weapon belt all in a timely and efficient manner. What Arthur thought would last well into the night was over within the hour…though he felt quite drained by the time they arrived in front of a cartographer's workshop. She strode into the shop and barked at the wrinkled man in the native language, making the flowing, somewhat girly words sound like military code before she gestured for Arthur to pick out what he needed. Arthur was grateful this operation had deep enough pockets to justify all these purchases…though it did make him feel like there was possibly something illegal going on. Oh well, he had enough things to worry about without adding that to the list.

He grabbed a few maps of different terrains and trading routes along with some that covered sea routes; he grabbed some specific books as well along with charting string, tabs, and colored markers for pinning down spaces. When he had everything rung up, he looked over at Esther and scribbled a question. **Would you know where Ivan has shown up in the last few years? Beyond the attacks on the crew and each of us?**

Esther thrust money at the old man's face and gave him a contemplative look, helping grab some of his purchases (as he had quite a lot at this point) as they headed back to the _Evangeline_. "I suppose so…we make it a point of trying to stop him, though often we don't succeed. Alfred and Seychelles keep a record of his appearances somewhere in the navigation room. Why, may I ask?"

**Because you need to know a hive's patterns before you can identify where it's nest it.**

Esther shook her head and muttered something disparaging about metaphors.

However, Arthur did not lose confidence due to the woman's lack of faith. No, when he arrived back at the ship and deposited his new belongings in his modest cabin, he took all the map supplies straight to the navigation room and got to work. Alfred and the captain did keep meticulous notes, which helped tremendously as he linked together places, events, attacks, and landmarks, highlight trade routes, travel paths, mountain ranges. He pinned up the other maps he had purchased and made notations on various routes that connected to one another while copying down the incidents where Ivan attacked.

He was still in the middle of his project when the other arrived back, stopping and staring with Esther and Kiku in the doorway as they watched the silent, short, and generally grumpy young man create a very specific and detailed map of their world…complete with markers and connecting lines and potential hide-outs all concerning Ivan. He looked back and smirked at the small crowd before he went back to adding notes and cross-referencing his maps with the notes in Alfred's books, grabbing a pencil from behind his ear and scribbling neat notes along the side of a red marker in the middle of Gaul…labeled Francis.

Some of the crew paused and gaped while going about their duties, Seychelles pausing alongside Alfred and patting him gently on his shocked face. "He'll do just fine, I think."

Alfred couldn't help but agree.

TBC…

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

My apologies, I added these on my livejournal but not here. Please forgive and thank you very much to the reviewer who reminded me!

*Rhys = Wales

** I liked the sound of her name so it stays

***Lily= Liechtenstein

****Cuba = Alejandro

*****Mexico = Rosa


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Of Silence and Thievery (3/12ish)  
Genre: humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Notice how the projected length of this thing keeps getting longer...damn it. This is kind of an experiment. I've had this idea in my head for awhile and figured I'd give it a shot, and if it turned out all right, work on this as an original work. Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_**Chapter Three: Where There Dark Things for Arthur to Encounter**_

Alfred found that he had a bit of a problem.

A bit of a problem by the name of Arthur Kirkland.

And that problem had to do with the fact that Alfred couldn't get the cranky, temperamental, silent and abusive man out of his damn head, scowling expression, humongous eyebrows, and the greenest eyes Alfred had ever seen, and all. It was starting to get ridiculous to be honest and if he had to deal with Gilbert's snickering one more time, he was going to kick the deaf man off his hero mission! But, he supposed he did look kind of stupid, staring and 'mooning' over (Esther's words, not his because he definitely wasn't 'mooning') Arthur when the guy was so mean and downright unpleasant most of the time. He couldn't figure out what it was about the guy that made him so interested but whatever it was, it was strong and Alfred has having a problem.

He certainly would not have elected Arthur has his 'damsel-in distress' but there seemed no help for it now; he was a hero, heroes needed damsels, and Alfred's libido had decided that Arthur fit the part. And to be honest, Alfred didn't think it was all that bad. Yes, the eyebrows were kind of off-putting, but they actually worked on his face…a face that actually was quite attractive once you really looked. Arthur had messy honey-colored hair, but it looked soft and framed his face in a good way, his skin was pale, but it was a good kind of pale, like moonlight or something silly like that. He was shorter that was true, but his body was slender and looked like it would just perfect against Alfred's and he certainly wasn't built weak – Arthur had insisted in helping out around the ship and when lifting heavy box and coils of rope, Alfred found it hard not to stare.

And then there were the eyes. Alfred had honestly never seen a pair of green eyes that looked like Arthur's. Yes, green eyes he had seen, Antonio and Toris had green eyes for goodness sake, but they weren't like Arthur's. They were like…like green hills or the color of some magically lighted signs in the bigger cities in Roma or Germania; they stared with determination, glared in heated anger, and sparkled in mirth (not that Alfred would ever say they sparkled to Arthur…he rather liked his body parts where they were). Everything that Arthur was feeling showed in his green eyes…and even though he couldn't speak, they could; Alfred had never known someone who felt things and expressed himself so soulfully. Mattie had said that the eyes were a glimpse at the soul of a person—Alfred had never really believed that hokey saying until Arthur.

"Hey, hero, you keep staring at 'im like you want to rape him and he's gonna figure it out eventually." Alfred was shaken out of his gazing (which had been a little invasive he guessed…just a little though) and gave a smirking Gilbert a dirty look. "Not that I understand though, those eyebrows, but I guess he's feisty. Bet he'd be one of those wild ones in be—"

"If you finish that sentence, I really will kick you off this ship!" Alfred snapped, looking across to make sure Arthur, who was busy making notes in his and Seychelles record books and glancing at a map of the Nords, where they were currently sailing through. He didn't seem to notice, but Alfred definitely did not want Arthur to hear anything about raping and it involving him. The guy was small but he hit like he was Alejandro's size…as Francis had been unfortunate enough to discover.

"Didn't catch most of that, something about me and the ship, but whatever. I just don't want to deal with your late-blooming hormones for the next however many years it takes for you to either A. fuck him or B. kill Ivan."

"I do not—" Alfred began, loudly, drawing in a few attentions from the ship, including Arthur's as the man began to head back inside the ship (who glared at him as if snapping him of his concentration was possibly the worst offense Alfred could have committed). He waved them off and turned away, heading back inside, practically dragging Gilbert behind him. "I do not want to, you know, with him I just, I don't know…he's interesting I guess but it's not like I wanna marry him or anything."

"Marry, yeah, because that's what your minds focused on when you stare at him like he's a piece of meat…because you want to 'marry' him."

"Not everyone's a pervert like you, Gilbert!"

"I can see you're talking, but all I can get out of it is that I'm awesome." Alfred wanted to wipe that damn smirk right off Gilbert's face. Jackass, using his deafness…Alfred knew he could lip-read what Alfred was insulting him! "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to leave you to your unresolved sexual tension, don't want it cramping my style, you know!"

Alfred really wanted to do nothing more than hurl his shoe at Gilbert's snickering, retreating back, but considering he'd likely not get the shoe back (if you threw something at Gilbert, he kept it) and then he'd be depressed because he liked these boots. They were very heroic, with buckles and everything. Alfred sighed dramatically and made his way back to the navigation room, where hopefully Seychelles was to discuss their next destination. Francis had been having weak, half-visions about the Nords, something to do with Braginski but he couldn't' tell what. Francis could not See like he used to, but he still received some visions…all regarding Ivan Braginski. It was useful to be sure, but Francis hated it…felt it created a connection with the guy.

However, there was no Seychelles…no, there was only Arthur.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" In hindsight, that was not the best question Alfred could have greeted the slim young man with. He had accepted the task of navigating the ship after all…and when Alfred thought about it, Arthur really wasn't in many other spots besides the deck, his room, and here.

Arthur turned around and regarded him with a look that clearly said he thought Alfred was an idiot before he gestured to the sprawling and impressive maps set up all along the navigation room walls. He wrote down a few scribbles on his pad from Kiku and turned it towards Alfred, rolling his eyes as he did so.

**Navigating, what do you think?**

Alfred laughed and shrugged his shoulders, hoping that his face wouldn't betray his thoughts, smiling cockily at Arthur. "I don't know, being grumpy? You've already written everything down from those books…what else do you need to add?"

Arthur glared at him and wrote down his response, his movements angry but precise…Alfred had a hard time looking away from his hands. He blinked and shook his head, turning away slightly –this was quickly becoming a serious problem, not just a little one, if he was drawn into Arthur's _hands_ of all things.

**If your only purpose in here is to insult me, git, I suggest you leave.**

"No, no! I just-nevermind, just teasing, ya know?" Alfred flashed Arthur his most winning smile, which made the man's face turn a bit pink, but mainly went ignored as the man turned back to the maps. "So…what are you working on?"

Arthur glanced back at him before he put down his various tools and picked up his tablet; Alfred felt a pang of regret…it was probably a pain to have to keep responding to his questions, it wasn't like Arthur could just answer. Alfred felt another swell of anger and hatred directed towards Braginski…he was going to stop that guy if it was the last thing he did. **I'm adding notes…to help us find a pattern.**

Alfred nodded and came forward, stepping up beside Arthur as he looked at the maps the man had helped put together, glancing at the neatly written notes beside his notes or Seychelles, notes explaining possible escape routes and any trails or roads that corresponded to other attack sites. It was truly amazing…and kind of sad that no one had thought to do this before. "To try and figure out if Braginski sticks with any similar routes, right?"

Arthur gave him an appraising look and nodded before he finished whatever note he had been working on before, turning back and raising his eyebrows at Alfred, with a slightly expectant look on his face. He rolled his eyes and gave a silent, yet still exasperated sigh before he scribbled down on his tablet. **Did you want to add anything to the map?**

Alfred kept his gaze for a moment before he looked back at the world-wide map that Arthur had linked together all the separate attacks on. It was missing two important ones…seemed a shame not to add them when Arthur went through so much work to create a tool that could accurately track Braginski's movements. He held out his hand for the thick quill Arthur had been using, heading to the left of the map when his hand closed around it. He marked two areas in Merica*, his much talked about homeland, scrawling two dates and two names on two marks that were almost virtually side-by-side. He stepped back, still holding the quill in his hand, staring with a sad sort of grin as Arthur examined the marks and hurriedly wrote down a question in fiery letters.

**Who's Matthew, Alfred? **Arthur was looking at him in a half-expectant, half-hesitant way, as if he was finally given a chance to ask the question he'd been wanting to for three weeks. Still, it was open and casual, not beholding Alfred to say anything if he chose not to…Alfred turned from the map and looked into the stupid green eyes he couldn't get out of his head.

"My little brother." Alfred sighed and settled his hands against his hips, fingers twiddling in the fabric of his shirt while he looked back at the map. "We were famous, you know? Where we lived. Merica doesn't have the same attitude towards magic and stuff that Britannia has…me and my brother were celebrated for our gifts. I had my strength and Mattie, Mattie could _feel_. He said it was all in the touch, that he could touch someone and feel what they felt, what they feared, what they needed…and he loved it. He loved helping people."

For once, Alfred was happy Arthur couldn't speak…he'd only told this story twice before, once to Seychelles and once to Gilbert (who had undoubtedly told the others if they proved trust-worthy). He didn't like telling it, didn't like remembering it or feeling what it made him feel.

"Braginski was after me…the strength and all that. But I wasn't home, I was helping some of the loggers that day haul the lumber back to town and…and Mattie looks a lot like me."

**He stole your brother's ability to feel.**

Alfred nodded at the words, a frown forming on his face. "Turns out _he_ was happy with how that turned out, gaining that ability. Matt was nearly catatonic when I got home, his ability was as much a part of him as his eyes you know? It was like he went blind and didn't know how to handle it. When he finally pulled himself together and told me…well, there's a big crater to the west of our hometown if you get my drift." Alfred cracked a grin at the small smile that appeared on Arthur's face.

"I decided I was going to hunt down the guy who hurt my brother and that I was going to take back what he stole…problem was he got the better of me and stole my strength, or at least most of it. That guy…he's a lot older than what he looks and well, this was like three years ago, I was a kid. But I didn't quit, you know, because heroes don't quit, especially against the bad guy, and I found all these guys who'd been attacked by Braginski too. But, anyway, yeah, might as well add the two of us here as well…it'd be stupid if your map didn't have everything."

Arthur stared at him for a moment, the green eyes roving over him with a kind of critical gaze that seemed to be deciding something, something important, before he nodded in thanks and scribbled on his tablet. **Is your brother all right?**

"Mattie? Yeah, he's fine now…I kinda promised him once we found out where Braginski s we'd swing by and pick him up so he could come too, but we visit him every now and then."

Arthur stared at him some more (which was making Alfred very nervous because his head was telling him to do all sorts of odd things…like tackling the man to the ground or pinning him up against something…) before he sighed and wrote on his tablet, **What happened to your brother certainly wasn't your fault, idiot.**

"Wh-what? I never said—well, of course it is! I mean—"

Arthur glared at him and shook his head…effectively shutting up Alfred even though he couldn't speak. The blond man felt a flash of wonder at how much Arthur had wormed his way under his skin in only a few weeks…oh jeez, now he was thinking of doing stuff _after_ the tackling and the pinning! He tried to push the thoughts out of his head, ignore and crush them and forget they even existed, but really, all he accomplish was turning a slight shade of red around the ears.

**The only one at fault is Ivan Braginski and no one else, least of all you. **

Alfred opened his mouth, intent to argue, not exactly what but argue nonetheless, but nothing escaped his head and eventually he settled for grudgingly nodding his head in accordance to Arthur's words. The green-eyes man smirked at him in a friendly manner before he scribbled more down on his tablet.

**Thank you for adding you both to the chart. **

"Yeah, you're welcome." Alfred smiled at Arthur and felt another thrill of something at the way Arthur scowled and looked away, mouthing something to himself that Alfred couldn't make out. "So…you getting along ok? With the ship and tablet and all?"

Arthur peeked at him from over his shoulder before he nodded tersely. **Fine, thank you.**

"Is it hard…not being able to talk I mean?"

Arthur hesitated before he nodded again, a sad look entering his eyes for a moment before he glanced up at Alfred, his more usual look of exasperation and disdain present. **It bloody well is and you should know. Wasn't it hard for you?**

"Yeah, I guess." Alfred shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile encouragingly. "But it'll get easier I bet! We just gotta keep the goal in mind, you know? And we got a good lead, Francis is almost never wrong, he's got that freaky connection with Braginski now but it's sure useful!"

Arthur rolled his eyes again and gave a small nod of his head before he turned back to his map, effectively letting Alfred know that he wished to go back to work; Alfred found himself staring at the slender back for a few moments longer than necessary before he shook himself out of it and headed out the door, calling out a cheerful parting as he went. However, he found himself pausing at the door, resting his hand against the wooden frame and staring at the man as he scribbled in notes alongside the two marks Alfred had added to the map, muttering silent words to himself as he went. He felt another kind of something well up in him, something he hadn't really felt before in his young life, and found himself uttering the words before he thought better of it.

"I'll get your voice back, Arthur, I promise!"

He whirled around and left quickly, not able to see the startled green eyes turn his way as he left.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Arthur felt very confused.

He found himself unable to do much but stare at the empty space Alfred had occupied moments before, wondering what the hell had just happened and why the young man had felt the need to promise him something that it seemed they were all on a mission to do. To promise him individually, as just Arthur…as if he was some kind of invalid who couldn't get his own vengeance and needed to be promised like some kind of damsel. He glared at the doorway and turned back to his maps with a huff, angrily finishing up his notes and pinning his newest pieces of string to the map to show possible connections and routes for those two attacks.

Really, he wasn't all that angry but the idiot was making it quite hard for Arthur to go on ignoring him and that seemed to be the only thing that worked in keeping his thoughts from….straying. He finished the work he wanted to do with the maps, including the addition of Alfred and his brother's attack points and spared a glance out the windows, noticing with a rueful grin that the sun had just barely set and it was entirely too early to head off the bed. He had taken to spending most of his spare time in the small cabin he'd been given…it was easier that way for everyone. He wasn't exactly easy to have a conversation with.

He hadn't honestly thought it would be so bad, not having a voice for a bit. He was never much of a talker before, really only offering greeting when given them first and of course insulting his brothers, but he had preferred to keep to himself. Now though…it was quickly becoming somewhat suffocating, not being able to speak or voice even the tiniest of things. His very breaths were silent. He'd taken to talking to himself as a way to make sure he remembered how to, not caring how ridiculous he surely looked talking to himself when o sound produced. He had always liked silence but now…now, should he ever even get his voice back, he thought he'd maybe go into the pub business like his brothers…at least there'd be constant noise.

He sighed and shoved away from the maps, deciding he'd grab a quick dinner and just to his room, snatching up his writing tablet as he went. It was useless to indulge in self-pity or unneeded emotions…he had enough other things to do, thank you.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

A week later, Arthur found himself out on the deck of the ship, staring at the new land they had arrived in, one he had only read about in books but was now seeing for the first time; the Nords, a nation that was rumored to be rich n all sorts of things, from iron, marble and magic. But the Nords were, quite frankly, not really what Arthur had been expecting. The name had sounded imposing, regal, and perhaps somewhat menacing but in all actuality, the mountains that the nation drew its name from were quite lovely, all snow-capped and well in the distance, and the majority of the coastal land that Arthur had seen from the deck was also lovely. The sands were dark and contrasted nicely with the dark blue of the water while there were stretches of dark evergreens in every which direction. It was serene and peaceful…even if it was also quite uncomfortably cold for the middle of spring.

Seychelles had docked them in one of the larger fishing cities called Ahvenanmaa* and immediately began barking out orders to form up different groups, some for restocking supplies, some for guarding the ship, and some to accompany Alfred and his group to search for signs of Ivan. Little Lily had cooked them all a large breakfast (which astounded Arthur because the girl did not look like she was really in any shape to do much) smiling and wishing them luck as they all split into their respective groups. Because Arthur was still rather new and his skills regarding weaponry and tracking had not been proved, he had been grouped with Esther, Vash and Seychelles. Alfred would take Gilbert, Alejandro and Frances along with him while Kiku stayed aboard the ship with Rosa and helped with any preparations should a speedy getaway become necessary.

They were heading straight into the surrounding forests out of the city because, according to Alfred, the forest, aptly called the Nord Forest, outside of Ahvenanmaa was likely the place Braginski was going to show up due to the group of 'warlocks' that lived there. Though, incidentally, they weren't really warlocks, Seychelles was quick to say as they started in, Arthur's eyes uncontrollably (much to his damn frustration) following Alfred and his group as they entered the forests from a different path. They were more like a coven, a group of talented people who just happened to live near each other (though Seychelles said that two absolutely loathed one another so she wasn't sure why they still insisted on living so close) and guarded the Nords with different types of elemental magic.

"He's been trying for years to steal their gifts," Seychelles told him as they walked, her long hair pulled away from her face on two braids per usual, flashing him a smile as Vash and Esther scouted ahead. "Nearly succeeded once or twice, but there are five of them and they're all quite skilled, they've driven him off each time."

**But Francis thinks he'll attack them again, even though he's been shown they overpower him?**

Seychelles shrugged lightly, her eyes giving him a look that she could practically hear the doubt and disdain in his writing for the flamboyant man. "Well, Francis can hardly interpret what his fragmented half-visions mean, but Ivan keeps gaining new gifts; maybe he thinks with _your_ voice he might stand a better chance at getting one of their powers. It's a lead and the only one we have so far."

Arthur didn't write down a response, uncomfortable with the thought of that bastard using his 'voice' in any fashion, and stared back ahead, watching Vash examine their surroundings with the sharpness of an experienced tracker. Esther was further away, nearly out of immediate sight, crouched down and peering around with her sword resting on her legs. The forest around them was not foreboding in the least (especially as pretty little bluebirds flew overhead, twittering happily), but Arthur couldn't shake off the odd sense of dread that had washed over him the further they walked into the forest.

The others though, they didn't seem to feel or worry so it was pointless to mention anything…he was already being assumed as not having the proper skill because of his former occupation – he wasn't about to prove them right with a silly feeling that had no merit. Seychelles, in fact, seemed a bit bored, picking idly at her nails with a small knife, glancing up every now and then to take in their surroundings. Arthur had already been told they were taking the less dangerous route, the route that did not lead directly to any of the so-called 'warlocks' homes, so it was unlikely they'd actually encounter Ivan should he appear. Arthur wondered belatedly if the others were as annoyed with being, essentially, his baby-sitters as he was with the thought that he needed to be baby-sat.

The hours went by slowly and the more Arthur walked, the more he got frustrated with how pointless it was for him to go in the first place (he could have had a much more pleasant time with Kiku back on the _Evangeline_). He was wondering if it was at all possible to physical fall asleep while still walking when they heard it; a sharp, high cry that sounded entirely too similar to person to be mistaken as wind or a bird. Esther was up and shot off in an instance, Vash following close behind, an angry cry echoing behind him as he ran. Seychelles swore colorfully under her breath and took off, calling out for Arthur to follow, but not paying attention to the fact that he did not know these forests as they did and could easily get lost.

Which was what promptly happened.

Arthur swore angrily and silently as he tried to look for some sort of trail Seychelles and the other must have gone though; it wasn't as if he was used to this sort of work and he couldn't call out for them to slow down. Not that he could really blame them…they were trying to save one of these supposed warlocks from Ivan…trying to gain back what was dear to them. Still, it couldn't have hurt for them to have checked behind and see if he was there. He wandered for a bit, trying to stick with a path that looked relatively worn and used, quelling the uprising of panic he felt begin to take hold the more he walked and found nothing.

As the sun started to set in the sky, bathing the forest in a light swath or orange and red, Arthur stepped into a small clearing and was relieved to see that there was a small pit for a fire present as well as a pile of cut wood. All evidence of human activity at some point, which was a vast improvement over the last hour or so. There was another pit to the left and a small flume of smoke was rising from it –Arthur smiled in relief at the sitting figure before the fire, hoping he could at least be directed back on a path to lead him back to the city.

However, when the man stood up and turned around, Arthur felt himself freeze and is smile slip slowly off his face.

"Hello, comrade, it has been some time, _da_?"

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Tino Väinämöinen felt that he was a relatively simple young man, not given to great hysterics and content living in his little cottage with Berwald and their little Hana-tamago, keeping is garden and the Nords safe. He did not care for arguing and violence (which was why he almost always ever visited Mathias* and Nikolai* without Berwald) nor did he care for those who hurt the innocent…which was why he always offered his assistance to Alfred and his small group whenever they visited. Ivan Braginski…Tino was unfortunately quite familiar with the man and the dark types of magic he had been gifted with at birth as he had attacked himself, Berwald, and little Oskar* over the years in his attempts to steal their gifts for himself. He was always willing to offer his help to the group who devoted their tie and energy in hunting the man down.

Still…whenever Alfred DID appear, it usually spelled disaster in some form.

Tino smiled softly as Alfred waved at him, a tense smile on his too-young face, noting that Gilbert, Alejandro, and Francis accompanied him but not noticing Esther. He wondered briefly whether she had chosen to search for Ivan on her own, for she had reason enough to do so, just as Feliks had, but did not mention it as he came forward, Hana-tamago following closely behind him.

"Alfred! This is certainly a surprise; we weren't expecting you for at least another month!"

Alfred smiled a bit brighter as he stopped in front of him, Gilbert waving obnoxiously and Francis waving in his silly manner while Alejandro just stared moodily. "Yeah well, some things have changed recently and we kinda got a lead that Braginski would be here."

Tino cocked his head to the side in slight confusion. "Really? Francis, you saw a glimpse of Ivan coming here?"

"I saw these woods, _mon cher, _and him, but beyond that I cannot say."

"Well…we can always feel it when he comes here with intent on harming one of us and I haven't heard anything from the others. And Berwald hasn't felt a thing and ever since Ivan wounded him, he has a sixth sense about him, kind of like you Francis. Are you sure it was the Nords you saw?"

Francis nodded, focusing blind eyes away for a moment. "I am sure of it."

Tino furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before he shrugged and smiled, swinging his arm forward in the universal message to follow him back to his home. "Well, let's talk with Su-san, maybe he knows something different than I!"

They followed Tino as he winded through the forest path to a modest cottage in a good sized clearing, smoking rising steadily from the chimney, the small, purple-eyed man hanging back a bit to fix Alfred with a friendly smile. "So, I notice Esther is not here this time."

"Oh, she's here, I just have her in a different group." Alfred grinned back. Tino noticed that the young man hesitated for a moment before he continued, a faint, but still present, tinge of red coloring his ears. "She's ah, she's with Vash and Seychelles, helping out the new guy with us, Arthur. He got his voice stolen by Braginski around three or four weeks ago."

Tino felt a swell of pity rise up in him for the man, even if he didn't know him. Su-san…whatever his encounter with Ivan had been had almost destroyed his vocal cords…Tino knew how much of a struggle it was to be without a voice. "That's terrible…do you mind if I ask why?"

"Oh, he had this wicked gift, but he says he really didn't use it, well not really says, he writes stuff down on a tablet Kiku got 'im, anyway not the point, he had this thing with his voice. Wish for it, say it. He could actually make things happen just by saying it! You know, he even can still do it, kinda, like me and my strength."

Tino nodded as he opened the door to the cottage, calling out for Berwald, stepping aside as Hana-tamago ran in. "His ability must have been impressive for it to still linger…Ivan's ability to steal is nearly unrivalled."

Alfred made a noise of agreement, that tell-tale tinge of red still lingering around his ears as he shouted out a greeting to Berwald, who lumbered in from the kitchen; Tino glanced at Gilbert in silent question, to which the pale man rolled his eyes and made kissy faces behind Alfred's back. The small, Nordic man stifled a fond chuckle; he had always been quite fond of Alfred, viewing him as a younger sibling or cousin, and it was adorable to hear that he had finally shown some kind of interest in someone. Alfred was relating everything to Su-san with Francis, so Tino took it upon himself to fix some refreshments for his guests (he knew this kind of behavior was partly why Berwald kept calling him his 'wife' but he couldn't help it…it was just how he was).

"So, what is your new crew member like?" Tino always made sure to speak with Gilbert…it was sad that he couldn't follow most conversations…even if he could be an arrogant prick when you did involve him.

"Short, irritable, and he's got the biggest eyebrows I have EVER seen." Gilbert smirked at him and grabbed a glass from Tino's outstretched hand. "But he's a damn good navigator…they'll have to show you what a mess he made of the navigation room on the ship. And the kid's fucking infatuated with him…couldn't tell you why. Arthur acts like a crotchety old guy most of the time and I'm not convinced I'm that much older than him."

Tino shrugged and smiled brightly as he left. It was hard to explain to someone like Gilbert, who didn't look at monogamy or settling down as something to be happy about and it was certainly a stretch to get him to understand what drew two people together. Tino always thought of himself and Su-san…logically, they really didn't make a lot of sense and at first glance, others always wondered why they were together. But, Tino couldn't help it; underneath Berwald's gruff, menacing and chilly exterior was a very caring, gentle man…and for all of Tino's sweetness, those closest to the man knew what he was like when you threatened something he cared about.

He was in the kitchen, listening as Alejandro went into his rant about how much better his fire had been in comparison to Berwald's elemental ice, which was par for course, when he gasped and felt his eyes dilate and go wide. The wards…Tino could feel _him_, could feel the darkness he always seemed to have spreading into the ground, making Tino sick and light-headed. But…it was different, he was here but none of his Brothers were in danger…he pushed himself away from the counter and leaned heavily against the door frame as he regained his bearings. He needed…he needed to focus and see what he was after…what was going on.

Tino took a deep breath, swallowed down the nausea, and will his mind through the dirt and earth; earth was his element, he could feel Ivan's faint trying to disorient him, but he was stronger than that...he'd proven that multiple times over. He flew through the ground and green, coming to a stop in a small clearing where Ivan stood, smiling down at a very hurt looking young man. A young man with very green eyes and not making a single sound, even though he was in obvious pain. A young man that had the biggest eyebrows Tino had ever seen.

He withdrew himself from the earth and staggered into the main room where his deep blue eyes met with Alfred's, taking Berwald's support gratefully, still reeling and feeling the inky blackness that seemed to linger on his skin. "Ivan…he is here, but it wasn't any of us he was after. He played you, he's attacking someone in the woods north of here…I think you said his name is Arthur."

Alfred's face drained of color and he took out the door faster than anyone could shout after him to wait, which spurred Gilbert to chase after him, swearing loudly as he left, Alejandro and Francis following after. Tino took a few more deep breaths and looked up at Berwald's concerned, teal eyes, nodding resolutely as he pushed himself away a bit and steadied himself. They had to help, of course…it was their forest, and Ivan was not welcome within and he wasn't going to take anymore away while they could help it.

"I'm fine, Su-san. Let's go."

"I's like T'ris?" Berwald grabbed a large staff off the wall and draped Tino's dark green cloak over his slender shoulders. Tino smiled sadly as he remembered the gentle, kind-hearted young healer and hoped that history did not mimic itself today.

"Yes, I believe so…like Toris."

TBC…

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

*America, not original I know

**Finnish for the Åland Islands, an archipelago in the Baltic sea, means river land or perch land

***Denmark

*****Norway

******Iceland


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Of Silence and Thievery (4/12ish)  
Genre: humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Notice how the projected length of this thing keeps getting longer...damn it. This is kind of an experiment. I've had this idea in my head for awhile and figured I'd give it a shot, and if it turned out all right, work on this as an original work. Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_**Chapter Four: Where There are Warlocks and Villains**_

Arthur could admit to himself later on that standing stock still and staring back at Ivan had probably not been the best idea when he should have thought of fleeing, but there was nothing for it now. Ivan smiled at him and took a step forward, one which Arthur felt his body echoing backwards subconsciously, his breath hitching silently as images of their last meeting flooded his head (he really had no desire to be tied up again). Ivan chuckled at him and made a motion with his hand, as if he was swatting away a bug or something –and it promptly tossed Arthur across the clearing and into a tree.

Arthur gasped silently as he hit the tree, feeling a trickle of blood flow down his face from his forehead; he felt disoriented and dizzy and in the time it took to regain his bearings, he blinked open his eyes to look at a pair of black boots. He blinked up at the giant man, feeling the start of panic and fear begin to wrap their way around his heart and mind, not quick enough to avoid the childish kick Ivan delivered to his ribs. He was rolled away, coughing without sound, and tossed back into the more open area of the clearing, landing hard on his shoulder, jarring his still dizzy head even more.

"I am surprised, comrade. Surprised that you would join with Alfred…I helped you, didn't I? I took away what made you different in your motherland. You should be thanking me, not hunting me, _da_?"

Arthur shook his head, not really sure what he was denying, and tried to scoot away, his head pounding fiercely; but that same, invisible force caught his ankle and dragged him back, Ivan kneeling down and grabbing his wrist harshly. Oh dear, he was certainly going to be killed…he'd gotten lucky before, but that was because he'd had something that Ivan had wanted…now he had apparently just pissed him off. He knew he should have just stayed in that cell and taken his chances with the gallows—look at what gallivanting after Alfred had gotten him.

Ivan smiled wider and wrapped his other hand around Arthur's throat, pulling him up as if Arthur weighed no more than a feather, and squeezing, his hand covering the red band he had placed on Arthur's throat in the first place. Arthur felt himself slammed into another tree, the hand squeezing tighter, making spots appear before his vision, and his rasps silent as the rest of his noises were. The horribly eerie violet eyes bore into him even as his vision started to go dark…and that's when Arthur felt something snap within him, something overpower the belief that he was about to die.

Indignation that he was going to die and anger about it. As before, his scream was silent, but his ability surged forward, bubbling out of his body in a soundless wave that slammed into Ivan and knocked him away as Arthur focused on getting the man _away_. Arthur collapsed and took in gasping, uneven breaths, blinking out moisture from his eyes as he felt his lungs burn in neglect, glancing up at Ivan, who was smiling even wider from where he was on the ground. He sat up and tucked his scarf over his shoulder, folding his hands together in his lap; Arthur had never seen something so innocuous be so terrifying.

"Very good, my friend, very good! It is not often that my comrades retain any of their powers after I relieve them of the burden…but when they do, I know I have found someone special. Someone worthy."

Arthur stared at him and shakily pushed himself upright. He was looking at him oddly, not murderously anymore, but rather like a child looks at a new toy…it was unsettling and made his hair stand on end. He glanced to the right furtively and spotted his pack and tablet…if he was quick, he might be able to get out of the clearing; Ivan was still on the ground, looking at him in gentle, terrifying wonder. He dashed to the side, not caring how his lungs burned as they tried to recover after their abuse, and had grabbed his packs and pivoted just as something black grabbed his ankle and twisted, hard. Arthur went down with a noiseless scream, clutching at his ankle, which was now facing a very wrong direction, gritting his teeth as he tried to not think about the pain (which was very hard to do, but he did have to escape and all).

The inky black, tentacle-like thing, pulled him back down by his hurt ankle as he tried to get away, wrapping up his leg to his torso and pinning him to the ground. He heard Ivan chuckle again as he rose to his feet and walked over, and when the man came into view, Arthur could see the inky black thing was extending from his own arm. He would have felt disgusted if it weren't for everything else going on because it was truly gross to look at.

"A skill from a fisherman in Grecia*. The man could grow these extra limbs to help catch fish in the same manner as some sea creatures…it has many other uses though, _da_?" Arthur felt a shiver of dread climb up his spine as Ivan stood on either side of his hips and knelt down. Wonderful, he was once again restrained and being straddled, effectively, by a child-like man who clearly was touched in the head…and a pervert. And staring at him with entirely too much interest to be healthy for his body's well-being. The black thing seemed to dissolve, but was replaced with two strong hands and arms…Arthur belatedly remembered that this was _Alfred's_ strength that Ivan was using; the thought made him even angrier.

"You should not struggle so much, comrade, I will hurt you worse." As if to prove his point, Ivan pressed his foot down on Arthur's ankle, drawing a silent yell and leaving him shaking in pain afterwards. Ivan's hand angled under his chin, forcing Arthur to look up with pain-glossed eyes…and then Arthur felt something warm filter through him, something calming and comforting…but it felt wrong and invasive. "It is all right, you will see. I do not wish to harm you, no no…I wish for you to come with me."

Arthur felt that pit of dread in his stomach double and tired to shake his head no, tried to not think about how the pain seemed to be receding the longer Ivan held his chin, held his wrists, touched him. _"Matthew…he could feel…he loved to help people…" _Alfred's words about his brother came to mind, what his brother had been able to do…Ivan was using it against him, trying to confuse him, and it was sadly working. He tried to redouble his efforts, but his limbs seemed heavy and lax, too warm and too content.

"I can never fully use the gifts I take, not like their original owners could…that is why you are so important, you and the others like you I have met. That is why you must come with me…I am not a bad man, comrade, I simply am trying to help this world."

Arthur shook his head and tried to arch away. A frown formed on Ivan's face and the warmth he had been filtering into Arthur abruptly stopped; Arthur screamed out in silence as all the pains rushed back at once. He blinked through the moisture covering his eyes in a thin film and hardly noticed as Ivan rose and dragged him up by his wrists until he felt soft lips against his ear, whispering in a soft hiss. He suppressed the shiver of fear and fixed his face into a defiant glare; he was determined to not show this man how scared he was, he wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You do not have a choice, Mr. Arthur, you understand, _da_?"

Arthur couldn't answer of course (no voice and all), but luckily enough, someone else did it for him; someone with a bright smile, even brighter eyes and a quick laugh, who had conveniently barreled into the clearing, fire burning behind his eyes.

"Get your filthy, stealing hands off him, Braginski."

Alfred's glare could have leveled forests, his hands clenched tightly at his side, voice low and gravelly in his anger. Arthur felt something ridiculously silly rise up within him, so silly he scowled darkly (which unfortunately confused Alfred, who was wondering why his heroic arrival wasn't greeted with a bit more gratitude from his 'damsel') and tried to squash down the fluttering butterflies in his stomach. There was a silent moment where all three were still (though Arthur didn't really have a choice, he was in a great amount of pain and still unable to move much in the violet-eyed man's grip), Ivan glancing between them in a curious fashion.

"I said, get off him." Alfred slammed his hand into a nearby tree as he walked forward, splintering it in half and sending wood chips everywhere. Ivan smiled brightly and did the opposite, much to Arthur's displeasure, flashing Alfred a mocking smile from behind Arthur's ear.

"He likes you." Ivan's words were like ice. Arthur's eyes darted up to the young man, who looked like he was one second away from creating another crater right here and felt something akin to protectiveness swell within when Ivan continued. "He would follow me if I took you…"

Something in Ivan's voice was so incredibly child-like for a moment that Arthur felt taken aback and forgot that this was supposed to be a villain who had stolen countless abilities from people, countless youth from children. It was longing, the longing of a lonely child, that Ivan spoke with while looking at Alfred…and while Arthur felt a pang of pity, he was mainly feeling very, _very_ possessive and pissed off so he turned his head slightly and bit down on Ivan's slacking hand. Hard.

Ivan let out a curse and loosened his hold on Arthur, who wasted no time in swinging his elbow into the giant man's gut and limping away as much as he could before his twisted ankle gave out on him. Alfred let out a very primal, angry roar (which Arthur did NOT find arousing in any way) and rushed the temporarily stunned Ivan, swinging a punch that had echoes of his stolen strength, knocking the pale man into a faraway tree trunk. Ivan pushed himself up, wiped away the blood trickling from his mouth, and grinned through bloody teeth before he rushed forward and met Alfred in a terribly showy melee that made Arthur's head spin.

Alfred was angry, there was no doubt of that, but it was clear that he didn't have the full strength that Ivan had stolen from him and was struggling to avoid some of the more deadly attacks Ivan flung his way. He was quick though and skilled, probably built up over years of living with fighters like Gilbert and Esther, and made quite a showing; but Arthur could see how this was going to end. Ivan was playing…Arthur knew he had control of his 'voice' and all he would need to do was use it and Alfred would be finished. The question became why was Ivan 'playing' in the first place…nevertheless, Arthur knew he had to do something.

He scooted backwards as more trees were destroyed as the two fought, breathing quickly through his nose as every little moment that jarred his ankle sent shooting pains up his body, and tried to calm his head. He had a lot of emotions swimming around and knew if he could focus on at least one, he might be able to do something with his 'voice.' Alfred was hit with a rather hard punch and sent reeling several steps backwards, but was still mindful to keep his body between Arthur's battered one and Ivan's.

With one final glance at the too-bloody handsome young man who was fighting so hard to protect Arthur, who had really not been the nicest to Alfred (though, in his defense, Alfred was an idiot) and for some reason, thought he was worth risking himself to save, Arthur found the focus he needed and the emotion to focus on. No one, other than himself, was going to hurt that boy…and Ivan could go and find himself someone else to fuck with for all he cared. He dug his hands into the dirt and looked up, yelling out his command silently and praying that the fabled 'warlocks' really did keep a vigilant eye on the forest.

_Light!_

It was hard and it hurt his battered body to do, but eventually, it worked – a beam of bright, yellow light exploded around him and shot straight up, serving as a beacon for anyone who may be watching, his own voice going hoarse after a little while and dying back into a wheezing gasp…all of which no one could hear. Still didn't mean he didn't feel it. Arthur's head pounded and he leaned back, trying desperately to keep from giving in to the exhaustion running through his veins. Alfred, the daft fool he was, could still use his help…he wasn't about to faint like some damn princess just because of a little pain and tiredness.

"Arthur, get away already!" Alfred yelled out and glared at him fiercely after a round-house kick landed solidly on Ivan's stomach. "Just go!"

Arthur shook his head as the yellow beam faded around him, tired but still fixing his face into a glare that clearly told the young man he was an idiot and Arthur wasn't going anywhere if there was a chance Alfred was going to get himself killed. Ivan looked between the two of them again, focusing a dark look at Arthur that could only be interpreted as one of jealousy. Arthur did not know all of what was going on between these two, between Alfred and Ivan, but whatever it was they each had _very_ different ideas on what their relationship with one another was; that much Arthur could see…and now he was thrown in the middle of the mess, just brilliant.

Alfred swore loudly and ducked underneath another swing, but wasn't quick enough to dodge the russet-stained pipe that came crashing down on his head, knocking him away and into a cluster of bushes. Arthur's eyes followed him and he felt another shiver of foreboding (and panic if he was going to be honest with himself) when the young man did not get up, looking back at Ivan as he fixed glowing violet eyes on him. Ivan was not smiling anymore; if possible, he looked even more threatening, which Arthur had not thought possible.

"Come, comrade, I am done playing."

Arthur knew, just knew, that the moment Ivan touched him this time, they'd be gone; he wasn't exactly sure how he knew, but it seemed only logical, they guy seemed to pop up to often to not have some sort of teleportation skill. And, if he did steal so much, it was only natural to assume that he could whisk people away as well. However, before Ivan could take another step, something that Arthur could only identify as a tornado of fire (literally, it was a tornado made out of flames) barreled through the clearing and slammed Ivan across the way. Arthur whipped his head to the side just as another tornado, this one made of water, slammed into him from the other side, flinging Ivan back forward, the spray of water misting over Arthur lightly.

"I thought we told you to stay the hell out of our forest, Stealer." Arthur was immediately reminded of Gilbert, but the voice was deeper and had a sharp accent to it, the man speaking somewhere to the left.

"You are not welcome here…leave now." The second voice was sounded slightly bored, light-spoken, and whimsical, the polar opposite of the first.

Ivan picked himself up and frowned as two separate men came into view. The one from the left was tall and had very wild-looking hair…it looked, vaguely like blond flames shooting out of his head, dark blue eyes glaring at the taller Ivan while smiling at him, almost daring him to do something. The other was a very short and willowy youth, whose pale blond hair was pinned back from his head with a jeweled clip, a dark look in his equally dark blue eyes, a small frown on his otherwise impassive face. What Arthur noticed the most through, was how the taller man had fire sparking around his hands, flames climbing up his shoulders while the smaller had water swirling around him quickly. Which, considering the day, was not all that surprising…but still, it certainly was an attention grabber.

Ivan frowned in a child-like, petulant manner before he waved a hand behind him, opening up a hole of a kind and stepping through it, his violet eyes sparing Arthur one last look before the hole zipped up and disappeared, taking the man with it. Arthur released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and sagged back against the tree, trying to quell the feelings of absolute panic he had been trying to keep at bay for the last hour or so and relief that it was over that were warring within him. It didn't help that he was in quite a bit of pain and just looking at his ankle, which was now swelling and turn an odd blue color, made it hurt so much worse; he closed his eyes to try and just shut it out. Perhaps if he passed out he could save himself the embarrassment of having two strangers witness him get hysterical.

"I think the bastard tossed Hero over there…damn, he really did a number on you, didn't he?"

Arthur blinked his eyes open and hissed silently, glaring up at the flame-haired man for not only disturbing his very needed plan of blacking out, but for also reminding him of the fact that he couldn't say _one fucking word_. The man sighed and hooked his hands under Arthur's arms, dragging him up and swinging him up in his arms as if he weighed nothing. By the—just someone, strike him down now. Not only had he just been beaten and traumatized by a psychopath, now he was being carried as if he was some blushing bride…honestly, why couldn't he pass out? He'd been struggling against it up until now and now he couldn't.

"Hey, stop you're squirming now, Princess, it'll be a hell of a lot easier if you just let me carry you. You've got some nasty bruises on your ribs so I can't very well toss you over my shoulder and if you try and walk on that ankle, I guaran-damn-tee that you'll just mess it up worse than it is. Hey, Nikolai, you got Hero all right?"

The young man, Nikolai, poked his head over the bushes Alfred was tossed into, nodding without expression before he ducked back down, hauling a much larger Alfred up with him. He grabbed Arthur's packs and the writing tablet as well, using a stream of water to keep the unconscious Alfred upright…which Arthur had to admit was a very fascinating and dead useful use of ability.

"Well then, best start heading back, _ja_?" The tall man smirked down at Arthur, who scowled before he looked away, trying to not let the red blooming on his face spread too far. Luckily for him, at just that moment, Alfred decided to startle awake and throw off Nikolai's hold, knocking the smaller man into the man carrying Arthur, who then promptly ran into a tree, smacking his ankle against the trunk roughly. Arthur's eyes widened and he let out a soundless cry of pain before blackness, blissful, wonderful blackness, finally claimed him.

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"Well shit."

"Mathias…" The young man named Nikolai closed his eyes in frustration, his voice nearly dripping with annoyance as the taller Nord, Mathias, shot him a half-apologetic look as the beat up guy in his arms went limp.

"Hey! It's not my fault Hero spazzed out on us…"

Nikolai stared at him and shook his head before walking over towards the frantic and disoriented Alfred, who was sporting a very nasty looking bump on his head. Mathias didn't envy him; that was going to hurt like a bitch for the next few days…though considering he'd just gone man-on-man with Ivan, he could probably be considered lucky he walked away with little more damage than a concussion. He glanced down at the unconscious man in his arms…this guy hadn't been nearly so lucky; his ankle looked like it had almost been turned around completely.

"Arthur!" Alfred looked around wildly for a moment, clearly a bit concussed, but eventually focusing on the aforementioned limp body in Mathias arms. "Oh jeez, is he—hey Iggy, you're fine right, I mean I got to you before he –where the hell is Ivan?"

"Take a chill pill, Hero; Eyebrows here is all right…just passed out because of his ankle kinda got rammed into a tree, but he'll live…probably."

"Alfred, you need to calm down. You have a concussion…" Nikolai rolled his eyes upwards before he wrapped his arm around the slightly panicking young man. Mathias watched in silence as Nikolai washed a gentle, calming wave of water flow over his arms and onto Alfred, who began to calm down and his eyes drooped. It was a damn useful trick, using the water's natural calming abilities along with his own impassive nature to calm down the hysterics; Mathias smiled at Nikolai as he readjusted the slim young man in his arms. Arthur, Alfred called him…he didn't look great, but nothing looked to life-threatening, but that ankle didn't look good…he'd probably be ok until they got him to Tino.

"Mathias, this way." Nikolai still had his slim arm around Alfred, water still flowing from him and running over Alfred in tiny rivulets. "He needs a healer."

"Where to, Oskar or Tino?"

"Tino is already coming. Berwald too."

"Oh wonderful, just what I need…first Ivan then that bastard."

Nikolai rolled his eyes once more and guided Alfred past Mathias, glancing down at the tall young man's feet every now and then to make sure he didn't trip and worsen his head injury. Mathias followed after, twisting his body with every step to keep Arthur's ankle as motionless as possible, adjusting the unconscious man whenever his hold began to weaken. The guy may have looked skinny, but he didn't weigh it and even though he had his flames running through his skin to help strengthen his muscles, it was hard to keep carrying him and not jostle his ankle.

"This guy is new, uh?"

"Seems so."

"So…what are you thinking? What did Ivan steal…and why would he come back…he only does that for the 'lucky' ones."

"Judging by the lack of noise when you smacked his ankle against the tree, I'd say his voice. And judging by the beam of light, I'd say Ivan didn't take all of it."

Mathias nodded, taking note of the red band that ran across the limp man's throat; Alfred had a band like that on his lower back, and so did most of the rest of his merry band. It was Ivan's mark. Esther on her Achilles' tendon, Seychelles under her eye-patch, Gilbert behind his ears…Frances' went across his eyes but being the vain man he was, he concealed it daily. Berwald had half of one as well…Mathis felt a swell if anger rise up within him, which Nikolai took notice because those blue eyes looked back at him, a rare look of concern and genuine affection flashing at him for a moment before he turned forward again.

Mathias, like all of the Nords, hated Ivan (well, Tino might not have hated him as much as the others but that was because he was Tino). He was an anathema to them, a dark spot that continued to haunt their forest at every chance he got with little regard to the balance Mathias and his Brothers kept. The Nords were a dangerous and unforgiving place…and it was only because of their gifts, the Elements that they embodied, that the cities within the Nords were kept safe from the harsh and unforgiving land they called home. They had tried to explain that to Ivan Braginski…but he either could not understand or did not care.

Mathias shook his head of the dark thoughts…it wouldn't do if he set off another forest fire in his anger; Nikolai hated it when he had to clean up the mess. When he looked back up, he saw the familiar faces of Tino and Berwald, riding a rolling hill of earth that flattened and came to a stop before them. Behind came the very stressed members of Alfred's group, Gilbert looked ready to kill something, as did Alejandro (but he always looked like that), and Francis looked uncharacteristically guilty as he blindly took in the sorry state of Alfred and the unconscious Arthur, somehow able to sense the damage done to both even though he could not see. Mathias spared Tino a smile and gave a grunting nod to Berwald, who returned it with his silent stare, before turning to address the rest of the group.

"I believe these," he nodded at Arthur's body and Alfred. "Are yours."

Gilbert draped Alfred's arm over his shoulder, giving Nikolai's expressionless face a small nod of thanks. He looked at Alfred, who was groaning a bit as the calming waters receded, the remnants dripping down his body in small rivulets; he blinked his eyes open slowly and winced at the setting sunlight filtering through the trees.

"Hey, Hero, welcome back…" Gilbert said, strangely subdued. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"Ivan attacked him," Alfred slurred. His glazed blue eyes focused on Arthur for a moment before he looked back at Gilbert, who was trying to follow the unfocused movements of Alfred's lips. "He-he tried to take 'im…like he took Toris…but he—"

Alfred's face turned a gross shade of green and Gilbert very quickly guided Alfred to a bush where the young man proceeded to retch and hack up the lunch he'd eaten that day. Nikolai stepped forward and touched Gilbert on the shoulder, drawing attention to himself as Berwald took Arthur from Mathias hold, Tino hurrying over and checking his injuries. Mathias shook out his arms gratefully –the little guy was heavy to be sure!

"Alfred has a concussion. The other, Arthur I believe, has multiple abrasions and bruising, particularly around his ribs and neck. His ankle is also fractured…it's possible some ligaments have been torn as well." Nikolai spared Alfred a glance as Gilbert helped him back up before continuing on. "Ivan is gone for the moment…I can't be sure if he'll return though."

"Then we should get them inside. Can you call Oskar for me, Niko? I could probably use his help too," Tino said quietly. "Mathias, I believe Esther, Vash, and Seychelles are all still out in our woods…could you please round them up and bring them back to mine and Su-san's cottage?"

Mathias grumbled but nodded, turning nonetheless and taking off in search of the rest of the group, Nikolai sharing a look with him before the both took off. He pitied Berwald really…having to deal with those puppy-dog eyes from Tino on a daily basis; poor bastard.

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Arthur woke up with another headache (which was becoming much to routine for comfort) and blinked several times, not too surprised when he found himself in an unfamiliar bed in an equally unfamiliar room. He pushed himself up to a sitting position slowly, wincing as the bruises covering his ribs and chest made themselves known; the bandages around his waist creaked as he sat up and were stiff and uncomfortable. It was dark outside and he was still dressed in the ripped and dirty clothes from the day, which told him that he hadn't been unconscious for that long…still, he wasn't sure where he was and while his last memory was being carried by a man who was not Ivan, he was fairly sure that could have changed. He pushed the down blankets off and stared at his ankle, which was splinted and facing the correct direction again, but throbbed in an unpleasant manner.

"Oh good, you're up! I hope you're feeling up to eating something…I'd feel bad if all this stew I made went to waste. Alfred is still quite nauseous, you see, can't even look at a bowl without throwing up…and the others are much too worried to consider eating!" Arthur whipped his head around to stare at possible the friendliest looking man he had ever seen. He was short and slender, but had a more willowy appearance than Arthur, with blond hair and blue eyes that had flashes of purple within; he was also wearing an apron with hand stitched designs of puppies and kittens. "Are you feeling all right? You can just nod; I won't ask you any questions that require you to write, your wrist may be strained a bit."

Arthur stared at the man for a moment before he nodded, keeping his eyes on the man even as he bustled about spooning some stew from a pot (that he had carried into the room apparently) into a small bowl, handing it to Arthur.

"First off, you're safe, not with Ivan, all right? So no more staring at me like I might attack…I can send for the others to vouch for me if you like, my name is Tino and I suppose I'm one of the so-called 'warlocks' Seychelles told you about." Tino smiled gently and sat down beside the bed on an empty chair. "Second off, you're in quite sore of shape and I recommend not doing anything too strenuous for the next week or two, especially if it involves walking…Ivan nearly tore off your ankle and it will need more time to heal. Thirdly, you'll be happy to know that apart from some nausea and bruising, Alfred is just fine."

Arthur scowled and looked down at the bowl of soup in his lap, eating it with a silent huff as if to deny Tino's last observation. He smiled and laughed gently, leaning forward and resting his chin on his upturned hands. "And here I thought you'd be happy to know your, ah, 'hero' is doing all right after that bump to the head! He's certainly worried about you…so worried in fact that he's beginning to drive poor Oskar, my youngest Brother, bonkers with all the questions he's asking about you!"

Arthur felt the ever-familiar rush of heat and swooping feelings at the thought of Alfred being concerned about him, which he ruthlessly pushed aside with a particular messy and large spoonful of stew. Tino's smile settled into something a bit less energetic as he waited for Arthur to finish his stew in silence, taking the bowl when he was done with a polite nod. "I hope it tasted all right."

Arthur nodded and couldn't suppress the small smile from creeping across his face at the positively joyous expression that crossed Tino's face. A settled back against the plethora of pillows and rested his hands (and yes, one was bandaged and a bit sore…one more thing to thank Ivan for) against his bandaged torso, keeping his gaze on the slight young man who was apparently one of the 'warlocks' Seychelles had spoken of…it was somewhat hard to believe.

Tino looked back at him as if sensing his thoughts and smiled softly before he walked over to the bedroom window and opened it—seconds later, Arthur watched with a fair amount of sheepishness as tree branches and vines crept into the room with a soft flick of Tino's wrist, blooming under his gaze and covering the entire room in green. "It was equally hard for me to believe that I had been blessed by the Gods with such a gift…but over time, it became more and more natural."

He waved the wrist back and the vines and tree branches swept out of the room in a flurry of motion, leaving only the small blond left, staring at Arthur in his gentle manner. "My Brothers and I, we were chosen for specific reasons that we could only understand after accepting our gifts…after we accepted what we were, it became mush easier to accept everything else. But, that isn't to say it works like that for everyone…but this isn't really the time for such a discussion. Right now, you should focus on recovering from your injuries."

Arthur frowned and made a motion with his hands to write, asking for his tablet. Tino smiled and nodded, grabbing it from the bundle of packs on the floor beside the door. "I'll give this to you, but just ask your questions…I can lip-read rather well."

Arthur took the tablet hesitantly before he nodded and mouthed his mind's thoughts. _Do you know why I can still use my gift at times, why Alfred can?_ Arthur had no clue really, and the others, for all their varying skills, did not seem to understand either. Tino, however, seemed as much his gift as it was him, inexplicably linked with his element in a manner that made it hard to distinguish one from the other (as Tino was soft and gentle as the earth was…but showed impressive power when called upon*). It made Arthur think that perhaps he would be better learned on the subject of their abilities and what Ivan really was.

Tino smiled and shrugged. "Lots of reasons. Ivan may have not completed the ritual properly, or perhaps he only took what he thought was necessary and left you less of a threat. Or maybe you were more powerful than Ivan and he could not take all of your gift…I'm leaning toward that last one…for both you and Alfred. Ivan is not infallible or all-powerful, if anything, his numerous failures to takes my Brother's and mine gifts from us is proof of that…perhaps that is why he came for you again."

Arthur bit his lip and looked to the side, staring in silence for a moment before looking back up. _He was more interested in using me to get to Alfred._

Tino nodded and hummed in agreement before he sat down on the edge of the bed, a concerned look crossing his face. "Then perhaps he cannot use your gift the way you can…it has happened before, and he needs you to show him how. Or, perhaps he sees how Alfred cares for you…Ivan's preoccupation with Alfred is, in a word, odd…at any rate, I'd just be cautious for the time being, Ivan is rather tenacious."

_Who has this happened to?_

Tino stared at him and shook his head before rising and heading towards the door. Arthur glared at the retreating form as he left, his question going unanswered…he'd just been attacked and this had happened to someone before! He deserved to know who this had happened to and why. However, before he could stew in his anger for much longer, Tino returned, this time with an even smaller young man, who looked no more than fifteen or so, whose hair was so pale it looked like an off shade of grey-ish blond. He had pale blue eyes and was helping a very pale looking Alfred walk into the room, a gentle stream of wind swirling around his hands and supporting the tall young man as he walked unsteadily.

"This is my youngest Brother, Oskar…he's been caring after Alfred this evening. And I believe Alfred would like to speak with you." The young boy guided Alfred into the empty seat beside Arthur's bed and gave Alfred a friendly, playful smile as the wind retreated back into his hands and disappeared.

"If you need me, just call. I'll hear," Oskar said with a small smirk before he left, Tino following after. Arthur stared at the closed door for a moment, trying to quell the sudden nervousness he felt with it only being him and Alfred in the room. Eventually, he looked into those bluer-than rational-blue eyes and felt a fresh wave of guilt hit him at the large, black and blue bump on his forehead, just below his hairline.

"You ok, Iggy?" Alfred's words were slow and somewhat cumbersome, but not slurred as before. His face was looking at Arthur with concern so blatant it made Arthur flush at the attention. He nodded, not bothering to correct the nickname Alfred was so fond of. Alfred smiled and nodded shallowly, not moving his head too much. "Good…I was worried…so, uh, I guess you wanna hear about who else this happened to right? That's what Tino said…"

Arthur nodded and motioned at himself, emphasizing his ankle before he shot Alfred a very obvious confused expression…he hoped he wouldn't need to use his tablet and luckily, Alfred got the gist of what he was trying to convey. Why had this happened to him and would it happen again.

"Well…I guess it kinda starts with Toris."

TBC…

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First off, you guys are awesome. Second, a wonderful reviewer is actually doing art for this story...look at my profile and give her work love! Thirdly...if any of you haven't seen How to Train Your Dragon, stop what you're doing and go see it. That is all.

*Greece, not original I know

** Quick and dirty on Nordic elements and why I picked them for what I did:

Tino – Earth. Steady, calm and strong, but able to be devastating under correct circumstances

Berwald – Ice. Harsh and powerful and can be deadly…but beautiful and pure; thought this worked nicely.

Mathias/Denmark – Fire. This really should be self-explanatory, haha!

Nikolai/Norway – Water. Calm and steady and flexible, able to adapt and very impersonal.

Oskar/Iceland – Wind. Playful and young. As Oskar is youngest Nord, obvious choice for him.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Of Silence and Thievery (5/12ish)  
Genre: humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Notice how the projected length of this thing keeps getting longer...damn it. This is kind of an experiment. I've had this idea in my head for awhile and figured I'd give it a shot, and if it turned out all right, work on this as an original work. Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_**Chapter Five: Wherein Annoying Feelings Rear their Ugly Heads**_

There was a moment of silence after Alfred started that grew between them, where both kind of just stared at one another, which of course made Arthur feel like an utter loon. He played with the blanket covering him for a bit, waiting for Alfred to continue, but when the young man remained silent, staring unfocused and still, Arthur sighed and snapped his fingers in front of him, drawing Alfred's attention back to the present.

_Toris_? Arthur mouthed, prompting Alfred to go on.

Alfred paused, smiling sadly at the memory of a person unknown to Arthur…Arthur tried to suppress the ridiculous surge of jealousy he felt begin within him. "Yeah ok…well, you see, we had a lot more people with us when I first started this…Ivan had been attacking people for a long time and there were lots of people who wanted revenge, be it for themselves or for someone they cared about…Toris and Feliks were that. Toris he…had this crazy powerful ability to heal, so powerful that even after he'd been attacked by Ivan, he could still heal just about anything that wasn't life threatening…

"Feliks was a longtime friend of Toris and even though he didn't have a gift of any kind or something stolen from him, he joined us anyway…wanted to make sure he stayed safe with us probably. Anyway, Toris could still heal at nearly full strength, kinda like how you can use your voice at nearly full ability even though you can't actually speak."

Arthur motioned at Alfred, grabbing his black tablet and scribbling fiery orange letters on it before Alfred could continue. **Or you, with your strength. Or Frances.**

Alfred shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "I guess kinda with me but not really with Frances. His other senses of heightened and he can more or less 'see' where he is, but he doesn't have visions anymore, not unless it involves Braginski…which the bastard apparently knows about and manipulates…"

**Don't blame yourself, you idiot. **Arthur frowned and shook his head at Alfred, motioning down at himself and his injuries and then at Alfred's. **It's done and we're both still here.**

"Yeah, I guess…but anyway, Frances and Esther aren't really the same…I mean, Esther's still fast because she works out and stuff but she doesn't have any of her speed…you're different, like Toris." Arthur rolled his eyes and pointed sharply with his quill at Arthur, indicating that Alfred ought to be lumped in with him as well. Alfred laughed and held up his hands in a surrendering motion, his bright smile making Arthur's stomach start pleasant little flips. "Ok, ok! Me too then…but the point is, _we're_ different. Braginski's stolen from us but we can still use that power and, from what I can tell, he can't as well as he wants."

Alfred got up slowly from his chair before Arthur could protest that a concussed man should really stay still, and scooted his chair closer to Arthur's bed slowly, careful to not make sharp movements. He sat back down and grinned as he rested his elbows on the bed, rather too close to Arthur's legs than was recommended for Arthur's sanity, picking at the quilt as a sad look entered the blue eyes.

"He found out about Toris. He'd taken people before, taken them wholly instead of just stealing gifts and powers but…he found out that Toris could still heal, could still use almost his full ability and he came for him. No one's really sure how it happened since he sent us on a goose chase, dropping all these hints he was going to steal a woman's 'steel' skin from a nearby village…that woman ended up being in league with him, a girl by the name of Natalia. All we know is when we came back to the ship, most of the crew left behind were seriously injured and Toris was gone, a note left behind by Braginski saying he'd take him off our hands."

Arthur felt a chill settle against his skin at the thought. It so easily could have been him, what had happened to this Toris had almost happened to him…though it may have been not just him. Arthur looked at Alfred and remembered how Ivan had looked at him…it wasn't with hatred or anger as Arthur would have expected from a man facing the one who had dedicated his life to stopping him. No, that anger had been directed towards Arthur himself…Ivan had stared at Alfred with something Arthur could only identify as longing…which made him feel irrationally offended and angry. Alfred, however, seemed oblivious to this.

"Feliks was livid and he left soon after." Arthur looked back up at Alfred, trying to shove his previous thoughts aside and focus on the young man before him, not whispers of what could have happened. "Said he'd look for Toris on his own…we've only seen him a handful of times since then."

**And Toris?**

Alfred frowned and shook his head, leaning back on the chair and staring moodily out the window. "Nothing. Wherever he is, he's where Ivan calls home...but he's probably still alive. Makes no sense to go through all the work of stealing someone just to kill him later."

Arthur nodded and waved his quill, bringing Alfred's attention back to him. **So he wanted to take me because I can still use my 'voice'?**

Alfred shrugged and nodded. "Tino seems to think so…which makes sense I guess. I mean, Braginski stole your voice and you can still use your ability…and it didn't seem like he used your voice when he was fighting us so maybe he can't use it like you can. That's why we think he took Toris; he couldn't use the healing ability as well as he wanted. I don't know though, maybe he just likes you!"

It was meant as a joke, Arthur knew, but something dark and angry entered Alfred's tone of voice and eyes when he said it. He knew what it sounded like…it was how Ivan had sounded when he discovered that Alfred 'liked' Arthur; he wasn't sure whether to be angry about hearing it or excited (no, definitely NOT excited…let's say interested, yes good safe word there). Arthur felt a bit out of his depth at the moment. True, he'd gotten used to the ship and the constant magic and even Francis and Gilbert to an extent but now this…

Back in Britannia, he'd made a point to avoid relationships and their messy entanglements, preferring nights and encounters that were just that, a night or an encounter, to some sort of ridiculous affair. It had been easier that way and he'd already had enough on his plate dealing with his brothers and the bookshop…but now, now he found himself drifting further and further away from the life and ideas he'd held for so long. Every time Alfred smiled at him, spoke to him, looked at him with eyes that had to be dyed to be that blue, he found himself falling a little bit more with you idiotic, but brave young man. Which was just ridiculous because there was all this other stuff going on, what with being pirates of a sort and hunting down a thieving madman; but he couldn't seem to stop it as much as he tried.

And it didn't help that Alfred would look at him like he was now or how he'd risk his personal safety and fight with a supremely powerful man to help Arthur…in fact it was very detrimental to his overall well-being. It certainly didn't help how close he was sitting now, looking at Arthur as he tried to think of more to say or something to say to Arthur to maybe ease any reservations he had about joining their party. Or how nice he smelled…all right, that was enough of that. Arthur cleared his throat silently and scribbled down on his tablet, sitting back against to pillows to try and put distance between himself and the young man.

**Well, seems a good idea I decided to stay with you lot then.**

Alfred's eyes widened comically, losing most of their darkness as he stared in disbelief at Arthur and the small smirk he allowed himself to have at the expression on Alfred's face. "Wh-how do you figure? You just got the crap kicked out of you by the psycho and I told you he already stole someone successfully!"

**But you came, didn't you? **Arthur flashed the message and then scribbled down a new ones as the letters faded, looking away with red-tinged cheeks as Alfred's smile turned, shook itself of all remaining anger and sadness and was simply happy. **Thank you for that, by the way. **

"Yeah, of course…wouldn't have just left you…"

The unspoken words hung between them, unspoken because Arthur couldn't say them and Alfred wasn't sure how to; yes, Arthur drew a larger target on his back in deciding to join Alfred and his band, but he gained their protection as well. If Ivan had attacked him while he was in Gaul, trying to squeeze out a life there voiceless as he was, Arthur knew he wouldn't have stood a chance. It was hard to call for help when your voice was gone and it meant the attacker didn't need to go through the trouble of keeping you silent. Arthur would BE with Ivan if he had remained in Gaul…and for that, he was grateful he had been offered to come and would not regret it. Though, he certainly was going to make that perverted frog feel guilty at every chance he got…it was partially his fault Ivan knew he'd be in the Nords forest.

"We'll stop him, Arthur. We'll find him and stop him from attacking anyone ever again and we'll get back what belongs to us!" Alfred smiled brighter, his eyes alighting with a determined fire and he adopted a somewhat heroic stance (which Arthur thought was impressive since the boy was sitting down and concussed) with a fist pump and decisive nod. Arthur's smirk softened into a smile of sorts as the glasses slipped down Alfred's nose a bit. "I promise, we'll stop him!"

Alfred's belief was infectious; Arthur nodded as Tino and Oskar came back in, saying that Alfred needed to get rest on a schedule due to his concussion, and he felt better than he had in hours. As Alfred was guided back out and Tino asked if Arthur was up to trying some small ankle rolls and stretches, the stress and horror (Arthur dared anyone who had just been attacked by a powerful, child-like stealer to not be afraid in the same situation) last few hours seemed to melt away into something else. Yes, they would stop Ivan…and they'd get back all that had been taken. Everything.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

The next few weeks were rather uneventful in comparison to the first few weeks, but Arthur chocked that up to being practically bedridden and stuck in a cottage for the most part (not that he was ungrateful…the cottage owners were awfully considerate and helping him heal after all). The crew of the _Evangeline_ had, for the most part, departed back to their ship with Seychelles after the captain had apologized to Arthur for leaving him behind, but both Kiku and Rosa had joined the rest of Alfred's group in the Nords forest. Seychelles had promised to have the ship stocked and ready to depart as soon as Arthur was able to head off, and while Arthur was a bit peeved that she had left him, he certainly didn't blame her for what happened. However, it was rather hard to let her know when she rushed off after her apology…he had to write his response after all.

Arthur had spent most of the past few weeks regaining mobility and strength in his ankle and healing the multiple bruises and a few broken ribs he'd received at Ivan's hands. The five Nord Brothers (as they were apt to calling their little group since it sounded better than the Nord Coven, which Mathias thought made them sound girly) had, for the most part, stuck around the cottage, Tino and Berwald of course since they lived there, but the other three as well. Oskar was pleasant but a bit of a trickster and had a fondness for using his wind abilities to pick up people sitting on chairs off the ground and spin them around. Mathias and Nikolai were in and out the most, but when they were there, Arthur was usually witness to their odd relationship and how often Mathias was usually doused and drenched in some form (Arthur had even seen him frozen once…Arthur suspected that was Berwald's handiwork).

Berwald was silent and gruff, but Arthur felt an odd kinship with the giant ice-wielder, seeing as he'd been attacked by Ivan and had his voice box nearly crushed as a result, leaving him with limited speaking abilities and able to understand Arthur's situation much better than anyone else. And Tino…well, Arthur was fairly sure that anyone who met Tino would be unable to do anything but like him…even if he was freakishly powerful and could uproot entire mountains ("not that I ever would, though!" he had said). Tino had also been the one who helped him strengthen his damaged ankle, smiling and encouraging even when Arthur feared there would be lasting damage from what Ivan had done to it.

That was where he found himself currently, out in the front of the cottage with Tino and Oskar, the latter using the air to keep Arthur supported while the other molded the earth to help Arthur's ankle get used to the motion of walking. Berwald was off to the side, speaking in his limited manner with Gilbert, who had no problem understanding him as he read his lips, and Arthur knew somewhere down the road, heading back from the ship, were Esther and Frances. Alejandro was cooking inside (as the large man apparently was quite the chef) with help from Rosa and Vash was sitting with the aged Lily in the garden, Mathias performing fire tricks for the little girl.

Nikolai was speaking with Kiku and Alfred to the side, though Alfred was more or less not paying attention and kept looking over at Arthur…which was really proving to be counter-productive. Alfred caught Arthur staring back at him and he smiled widely and waved before turning back to Kiku, who was looking at Alfred and Arthur in a very annoying, knowing fashion. Arthur huffed and turned back forward, blowing his hair out of his eyes as he took another tentative step forward at Tino's insistence. He didn't need additional distractions when he was trying to walk on a badly damaged and recently repaired ankle, thank you.

"You're doing much better…I think we can look at the prospect of splinting and crutches…maybe a cane." Tino smiled brightly as Arthur reached him, oblivious to the snickers that erupted from both Gilbert and Alfred at the mention of Arthur using a cane (for some unknown reason, they both enjoyed comparing him to an old man…bollocks really as Gilbert was older than he was!). "Either way, I think you're just about ready for the ship again!"

_Really?_ Arthur mouthed as he let Oskar's wind guide him down to a bench. He looked down briefly at the ugly splotches decorating his ankle and how swollen it still was before turning back to Tino…he liked to think Oskar's 'wind-pressure-therapy' didn't hurt as much when he wasn't staring straight at it. _How much mobility do you think?_

"Probably still limited, but you'll be able to hobble around well enough. It'll still be a few weeks before you're ankle will be better but we've done as much as we can…you'll just have to walk on it and get it used to bearing your full weight again." Tino glared at Mathias who snickered at the weight comment before he smiled confidently at Arthur. Arthur glared as well, but his glare was much more menacing than Tino's and at least shut Mathias up.

"I can fashion a splint that could help," Oskar chimed in. He was currently rolling tightly bunched, spinning globes of air over Arthur's ankles, trying to working out the swelling and not aggravate the mending bones and tendons. "Something better than a pair of sticks and some tape."

"Hey! That worked just fine you little twerp!" Mathias shouted back angrily as Oskar sent the taller man a mean smirk. "I got back out of that canyon, didn't I?"

"Oskar, don't antagonize him, he's still sore about that hiking trip and that splint would be wonderful actually, thank you!" Arthur was beginning to see why Berwald referred to Tino as his wife…he was awful mothering…and he did blush whenever Berwald muttered something incomprehensible to the rest of them but had Gilbert chuckling under his breath.

"Ok, I'll work on that…shouldn't take me too long." The spinning globes of air vanished and Arthur let out a relieved sigh as the sharp pain and pressure let up. Oskar gave him an apologetic shrug before he headed up in the air, a small whirlwind supporting him and carrying him away to wherever his workshop was. Oskar lived with Mathias and Nikolai, but apparently didn't trust the fire-wielder around his tools so he'd set up his own workshop apart from him.

Arthur nodded to Tino in thanks as the small man helped him to his feet and lent a hand in getting him back inside…that is until Alfred leapt up from his spot and practically yanked Arthur into his own arms, smiling brightly. Arthur scowled and tried to fight against the young man's hold, but was severely limited due to his ankle, which provided no way to resist, and eventually settled for glaring darkly and muttering silent insults. Tino blinked for a moment before he smiled and began chuckling, trying to hide his laughter behind his hand as Alfred basically carried Arthur inside. Arthur did not care for the knowing look the Earth elemental shared with Kiku and Berwald (the latter shaking his head in an exasperated fashion).

" Remember, Hero, no strenuous activity!" Gilbert jeered after them, earning Arthur's glare to swing to him, which amused him further. "Wouldn't want to break him anymore, would you?"

"I swear, one of these days I'm going to push him off the ship when we're in the middle of the ocean." Arthur looked back at Alfred, who was an adorable shade of pink and pouting in embarrassment; he smiled sheepishly and nervously at Arthur as he lead him to the kitchen. "Sorry…he's just…he's just stupid, you know? Doesn't know when to shut up…"

Arthur felt his own embarrassment fade away at the sight of a flustered Alfred (which he was not happy about) and nodded tersely, looking away from the young man's relieved face and wishing that he didn't like how the boy smelled so much. Alfred guided him to a kitchen chair and stepped back when Arthur glared at him at trying to actually set him down in the chair as if he was a child—he was injured, not invalid. He hopped and sat down gingerly, raising his ankle onto another chair to keep it elevated. Arthur offered a polite smile to Rosa, who immediately bustled over and pushed Alfred out of the way.

"You should not crowd him, _mijo_*_, _the young man needs to breathe!" She frowned at Alfred before offering Arthur a pretty smile. "Are you hungry, _amigo_? Alejandro has been fixing up some food all day. I'd say it smells delicious, but we know I can't, so does it?"

Arthur nodded and felt a smile quirk his lips at the beaming smile Rosa gave him. "Oh good…I may not be able to help like I used to, smell is very important to cooking you know, but it's nice to know I haven't become useless! Alfred! If Alejandro catches you sneaking a bite of his _mole_* he'll skin you alive, _mijo_!"

Alfred smiled guilty, scooping up another spoonful of the brown, pudding like gunk and stuffing his mouth full before walking away; Rosa rolled her eyes and began muttering exasperatedly in her native, rolling tongue. Arthur grabbed his tablet from Alfred's bag (which always seemed to appear in whichever room he was in) under the table and wrote down a question as Alfred sat back down beside him.

**Why does Alejandro even sail with us when he hates you so much?**

Alfred blinked at the orange letters before he laughed, drawing Rosa's attention to the question as well, to which she smiled in a mysterious and knowing manner. Arthur looked between the two of them before he scowled and motioned for one of them to answer. Rosa wiped her hands free of flour and sat down at the table, shooting a still chuckling Alfred a fond look.

"Alejandro does not care for Alfred, this is true, but he cares very much for Matthew so he journeys with Alfred for him."

"Hey, he likes me well enough…we just don't see eye to eye on politics…and he's violent when he's angry when you disagree with his politics…but yeah, he's in this for Mattie. I don't think he's really even after getting his fire-breath back anymore; he just wants to help Matt. It's kinda sweet actually…still, if he even _thinks_ about touching Mattie inappropriately, I'll make sure he regrets it."

Rosa rolled her eyes at Arthur and shook her head before she got back up and began rolling her tortillas (a unique and wonderful kind of flatbread from her homeland Arthur found himself quickly becoming addicted to) once more, muttering under her breath. It was odd, imagining a great brute of a man like Alejandro would be so smitten with anyone, much less Alfred's brother, but he supposed it was sweet in a way. Caring about someone enough to risk everything for that person…Alfred chuckled again and looked back over at Arthur, nudging his unhurt leg under the table with his knee, which made Arthur shoot him a withering look and turn away. Alfred grinned wider and nudged him again…which prompted Arthur to through a roll on the table at his head, snarling silent insults at him all the while.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Oskar returned not three days later with his engineered splint –it was small and lightweight, using inflatable bags of air to stabilize the ankle and keep it steady while a hard, protective shell surrounded it from the outside, using easily strapping bands to keep it all in place. Arthur still needed to bear most of his weight on his good ankle, but the 'air-cast*' as Oskar dubbed it was a vast improvement and did keep the ankle from moving too much. The five Nord Brothers guided the group out of the forest, vowing to let them know if they received and word on Ivan's whereabouts or any new attacks.

**How would you do that? **Arthur had asked, to which Nikolai had smiled softly.

"Through the water of course," he'd responded before departing with Mathias and Oskar back into the woods. Tino and Berwald and stayed a bit longer, walking with them to the docks, the large man resting his arm around the smaller man's shoulders while Tino made them promise to visit soon. Arthur watched as Tino pulled Alfred aside and murmur something to the young man, something that had Alfred a slight shade of pink and Tino smiling gently in a brotherly fashion. Arthur had looked at him questioningly as Alfred helped Arthur up the gangplank to the _Evangeline_ but the blue-eyed man ad just shrugged and said Tino suggested they visit his brother soon.

Arthur had the distinct notion that Alfred was lying but he didn't press…it was easy to ignore badgering when he had to write down his pesterings.

Seychelles looked much less guilty than she had previously, for which Arthur was grateful (Vash and Esther had also felt guilty, but had apologized and were done with it…it was pointless focusing on what had happened as it was clear Ivan would have separated Arthur from the others no matter what), and boomed out orders to her crew once everyone was on board. She had looked towards Alfred, asking where they were headed which Alfred answered with little hesitation.

"Spandow* in Germania…I think it's time we paid Gilly's brother a visit."

Arthur's eyes narrowed at him…Germania did not sound like Merica where Matthew lived and even though he was intrigued with the information that Gilbert had a brother, he was more peeved that Alfred was not telling him everything. Which he then felt ridiculous for since it wasn't as if Alfred had to tell him anything, it was his group after all, his mission…he cursed the ill-begotten feelings racing through him for the umpteenth time and scowled deeper. This really needed to stop…it was starting to become a serious problem.

The ship departed from the Nords at midday, departing back the way it had come, flashing one last glimpse of the majestic looking mountains and forests, home of the five men Arthur now owed quite a debt to. For nearly two weeks, they sailed down the coast line of the massive country heading south to the sunnier and more advanced country of Germania, a country Arthur was very familiar with since it did quite a lot of trading with Britannia. Arthur's ankle continued to improve each day, applying a little more pressure to it each day while wearing the air-cast and doing the strength building exercises Tino had taught him before bed. Arthur found himself spending more and more time in the navigation room with Kiku, who proved to be a very pleasant assistant and also did not need Arthur to write down his words to hear him.

"I can read lips as well, Arthur-san. My people are adept at observing body language and facial behavior…we are encouraged to not speak for the majority of our youth to learn how to read a person beyond their words." Arthur had thought it an odd way to raise children but it certainly seemed to help if Kiku was any indication…the man always seemed to know what you were thinking.

The days blended into a pleasant string of familiarity, Arthur feeling more comfortable with his place within the crew than before and the comfort of knowing what they had to do next and what Ivan could do, while frightening, helped bolster everyone's determination. If any good could come about from what happened in the Nord forest, Arthur thought, it was that. But Arthur tried not to think too much on that day, especially not how frightened Ivan had made him, especially in his behavior after Alfred had appeared and showed his readiness to defend Arthur…there was something dark in the man when it came to Alfred. Something that caused him to worry much more than worrying about the possibility of him following Toris' fate.

It was these thoughts that were distracting Arthur as he sat in the navigation room, trying to figure out what would be a good pathway or route to examine first in relation to Ivan sightings with little success, when he felt a hand clasp his shoulder. He jerked back in surprise and turned around to stare into blue eyes that looked much too playful for Arthur's liking. He glared and snapped the journal sitting on his lap shut and picked up his tablet, writing angrily.

**Don't you know it's rude** **to sneak up on people, you git?**

"Don't you know how much of an old man it makes you to stay in here, hunched over maps all the time?" Alfred grinned back. He coked his hip to the side and rested his hands on his sides, tilting his head down at Arthur and painting quite the pretty picture. "Come on, I wanna show you something."

**I'm busy you twat.**

"Not anymore!" Alfred had developed this annoying tendency of tossing Arthur over his shoulder when he wanted to get his way, knowing the slighter man was not able to squirm as much as usual without jarring his still healing ankle. Arthur really should have learned to expect it by this point. He struggled as much as could without aggravating his splinted ankle but Alfred just tightened his hold and laughed, carrying him out of the navigation room and onto the deck, picking up the tablet on his way out.

Arthur glared at the crew, who had grown used to this sight and barely even glanced at the two of them as Alfred made his way to the center mast of the ship. "I'll put you down, but you have to climb up there, no running back to the room!"

Arthur swore silently for a few moments before he nodded his head, steadying himself against Alfred's arm as he regained equilibrium. He looked at the ladder and sniffed in disgust at Alfred before he made his way, very slowly, up the ladder; it was awkward without full use of both ankles, but he managed by relying on his upper body strength, which was more potent than people seemed to realize. Alfred followed after, keeping an eye on each step, ready to clamber up if Arthur lost his balance.

The sun was setting by the time Arthur reached the top, gingerly swinging over the top of ladder and into the Crow's Nest, Alfred following immediately after. The tall young man handed Arthur back his tablet, which he snatched away and scowled, taking the quill as well. He looked about, admiring the view of the ocean for a moment, before he scribbled down his question.

**Well? What did you want me to see?**

"Just watch." Alfred turned Arthur around and pointed to a familiar coastline. Arthur had never been to this part of Britannia before, but he recognized it nonetheless, shooting Alfred a questioning look over his shoulder before Alfred turned him straight again. "Watch."

Arthur did. Twilight was blinking away and leaving night behind…and then he saw them. He'd heard of the White Cliffs, heard how beautiful they were and how admired they were by sailors worldwide but he'd never seen them before…and he'd certainly never seen how they looked as the moon began to shine and the stars blinked out. A wall of white met his gaze, white that nearly shimmered as the sea's reflection and ripples played out against its walls, creating different colors of silver, green, and blue. He had seen the Aurora Lights while in the Nords, seen how they played in the sky and danced with the stars (he had his poetic moments…he'd been a bookkeeper after all), but this was somehow more…dare he say it, magical. He felt a smile upturn his lips the more he looked, knowing that the Cliffs were no doubt beautiful during the day, but he'd never quite seen something so awe-inspiring as they were at night.

"I figured you'd never seen 'em," Alfred said softly, shyly. Arthur turned his head to look at the young man, watching them from the other side of the Nest, a soft smile on his face. "Even though you lived there…they're pretty cool, uh?"

Arthur felt the flush of heat when Alfred turned and looked at him, face all aglow and what not, and nodded before he turned back to the Cliffs and the moon's light and the ocean's ripples, feeling something altogether frightening and new swell up within him. This was different, different than just feeling flustered, different than just thinking certain things, different than liking how Alfred smelled…it was more, so much more. And it was terrifying. Arthur could feel his breath speed up and, for once since this entire ordeal had began, he was glad his voice was silent.

Alfred must've kept looking at him and noticed something because the next thing Arthur was aware of was that he was standing entirely too close to him, blue eyes boring into him with a brightness and intensity that was hard to look away from. Arthur tried to glare or make it plain that he wanted Alfred to get the hell away, but Alfred frowned, the moonlight glinting off his glasses, placing a hesitant hand on Arthur's shoulder instead. Arthur knew he should have shrugged the hand off, but once it was there, he found his body leaning in closer until the younger man was forced to wrap arms around him instead…he cursed at himself for a moment before he braved to look up.

"You'll go back there, Iggy…I mean, they're all kind of stuck in the mud but you'll be able to go back once this is all done!" Arthur shook his head…that wasn't what he wanted and in all honesty, he'd probably always wanted to leave Britannia…he couldn't give a rat's arse if he went back. But, Alfred was too dense to see just what his words did to Arthur so assumed that White Cliffs made him miss his old home…and frankly, it was fine if Alfred kept that notion. But no, Arthur had to shake his head no; why could he not lie to him?

Arthur took a deep, silent breath and looked up, prepared to shrug off the question and whole night because that was just for the best, but as usual when it came to Alfred, his plan did not go as planned. Alfred reached up at that same moment and cupped his face, freezing them both, simply staring amidst a sea of stars until, unconsciously (because Arthur sure as fuck would not admit he had done it willingly) leaned forward until the space between dwindled to nothing. However, just as breath mingled and Arthur's eyes began to slide shut, everything came to a screaming halt with a few simple words.

"Hey, Hero! Get your ass down here, Seychelles said something about being out of those meat patties you like and wants to know if you've stashed any anywhere else!" Gilbert's voice boomed up to them both from the deck, snapping them both away and leaving them to stare at one another in a decidedly much more awkward fashion than before. "You hear me?"

"Oh…well I-I guess I'll see you later! Happy you liked the Cliffs!" Alfred mumbled in a rush before he swung over the Crow's Nest and slid down the ladder, smacking Gilbert on the head with a foot before touching deck and running off. Arthur took a shaky breath and sat down, closing his eyes and wondering what the bloody hell had just happened and what almost had. He had nearly kissed the ruddy idiot…kissed Alfred…and the only thing he could really feel in regards to it was how much he wished Gilbert had kept his fucking mouth shut.

That and how the hell he was supposed to get down now. But, one thing at a time you know, one thing at a time.

TBC…

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

So...I'm a bit of a tease and I do apologize for that but I promise I will make up for it down the road! Thanks to everyone's support, you are all quite wonderful!

* Spanish endearment for a young/close male family member

**Mole- a Mexican sauce made from chili peppers, other spices, and chocolate

***I've used one before…much more effective than a wrap or splint see here: .

****Old name for German province of Spandau, one of the initial settlements closest to modern day Berlin.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Of Silence and Thievery (6/12ish)  
Genre: humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Notice how the projected length of this thing keeps getting longer...damn it. This is kind of an experiment. I've had this idea in my head for awhile and figured I'd give it a shot, and if it turned out all right, work on this as an original work. Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_**Chapter Six: Where Arthur Encounters Twins, the Market, and Fairies**_

Ivan was in an odd mood.

This wasn't anything entirely new, as Ivan was usually in an odd mood being that he had the mentality of a child most days and that of a bitter, angry man the rest; but this was different, different enough to make Toris nervous. Ivan had returned home late and he had come back alone…alone after stating that he was bringing someone new to join their 'family' and ordering Toris to be ready for his return. And the young Healer had been…only Ivan returned alone, looking particularly upset and had not said a word, not even to Natalia or Oksana,* which had left something akin to curiosity sitting in his gut.

Toris could not recall a time before or after his captivity that Ivan had returned from a trip unsuccessful in what he set out to do, who he intended to steal or steal from escaping his clutches. At one time, he had believed to have escaped Ivan in this manner, his ability to heal too strong for the man to take away…but he learned quickly how mistaken he had been. But now…now maybe there had been someone who had defied the odds. Maybe there was someone that Ivan had encountered that finally stumped him…besides the Nords, but they hardly counted since they didn't leave their forest and only challenged Ivan when he trespassed on their domain.

They all knew and feared who Ivan had most recently targeted, all had been terrified but Natalia about what it meant for them, Ivan's makeshift and stolen 'family.' The man from Britannia that had a 'voice' which could command virtually anything…create anything he wished and apparently hardly used it. Raivis had been a virtual mess at the thought of what it meant if Ivan had control of such a gift and Toris and Eduard had spent most of the weeks leading up to Ivan's attack trying to console the poor boy. He'd had the unfortunate gift of turning his skin invisible at one time. Raivis had been taken not because he kept his gift like Toris or Eduard, but because the boy and his nervous shaking had fascinated Ivan in a way that was entirely unhealthy; Toris had spent a majority of his time convincing the boy to not do anything rash if Ivan should return with the Britannia man's gift.

Most of who Ivan had taken still retained some fraction of their power but there were some, like Natalia, who decided to willingly join Ivan and so had kept their gifts as long as they promised to use them for Ivan when he wished it. And then there were others, like poor Raivis, who had triggered some sort of obsession within…Toris unfortunately knew he landed somewhere in between. Ivan, for the most part, did not hurt them apart from mentally terrorizing some of the younger ones, but they all knew that could easily change should he steal a gift that enabled him to do whatever he wished by simply saying it.

However, he had returned that night and still could not use the gift he'd stolen how he wished. He'd taken the man's voice and seemingly his ability, but Ivan could do little more than basic commands of inanimate objects…he could do nothing like stopping an entire mob of raging villagers and freezing them in place. The man, Arthur, still could. And when Ivan had set out to retrieve the man as was his habit, he had returned empty-handed and uncharacteristically upset…because Alfred had apparently defended the man in a manner different than he had any of the others who travelled with him.

Toris knew Ivan better than most, better than he wished to, but he knew if there was a one thing he could not understand about the giant, frightening man it revolved around the young man whose strength he'd stolen most of, could use, and yet still shared somehow. Toris shook his head and kept his mind focused on something else as he walked down the hallways of the stone fortress to meet Eduard…Ivan had an unpleasant habit of having the little girl Asmin* peek into their thoughts and pick out what they were thinking at that moment. He rounded a corner and entered the unused library Eduard preferred to hide himself away in when Ivan didn't need him, shutting the door quietly and offering a wan smile. Raivis was there as well, reading a book and shaking minimally today.

"So…I assume you know why Ivan is in such a black mood." Toris tried to smile but the most he could manage was a slight grimace at Eduard's sigh and nod. "What happened?" Eduard had the ability to 'see' events happening in the present anywhere around the world as long as he had a person or place to focus on…it certainly helped keep Ivan informed and was generally how he sniffed out new talents or abilities.

"He created a beam of light out of nothing during his encounter with Ivan…created it because Alfred had been harmed in defending him. He can use the full extent of his gift without having a voice if his emotions are running high enough to override the mental block that his mind as created."

"So…?"

"So, if he wanted to, he could use his gift at any time, not simply under emotional distress...it is only his belief he cannot which stops him. That is what upsets Ivan…that and the fact that the Merican boy has twice now used the full extent of his strength when the 'siren' is involved."

"Siren?" Toris did manage the grin this time, taking a seat opposite the tall, bespectacled man.

"It is what the others have been calling him, what Ivan has been calling him…they do not know his name as we do." Eduard shrugged and shot a look down at the nervous Raivis. "You must admit, it is fitting…if he were to ever use his gift to its full extent."

"I suppose…" Toris trailed off. "Do you think he could –"

"Don't think on it," Eduard said sharply. He nodded his head forward nonetheless and Toris felt something warm and light-hearted fill him up, something he had not felt in years…something an awful lot like hope. "Ivan has not considered it yet…whether it's true or not I'd rather not give him the idea."

Toris nodded softly and looked at his hands. It would be hard to put this from his mind, but he'd try because it was perhaps the only hope any of them had for getting out of their gilded prison. It had been so long since he'd been outside the stone halls and walls, so long since he'd seen anything but snow…so long since he'd seen Feliks. He would do it, he had to…he and Eduard were who needed to be strong for everyone else, for those like Raivis and Asmin who were too young to stand strong against Ivan.

"You should go…he'll be looking for you soon. He was hurt when he fought Alfred followed by both the Fire caster and Water caster, hurt more than he is letting on…go to him before he calls. Say I told you of it…an excuse for you visiting me." Eduard leaned back and rubbed at his eyes tiredly from under the wire frames. "You know he'll ask for it…I'm sure by now he's already been informed…Natalia has a nasty habit of knowing wherever you go."

Toris shrugged lightly and rose from his seat, Raivis shooting him a nervous smile before he went back to his book; Toris noticed he had plugs in his ears...no doubt to keep himself in the dark so he could not betray them all. "She doesn't frighten me."

Eduard shot him a skeptical look before Toris headed out the door. "She should."

Toris paused and shrugged before he left, making his way through the Winter Castle back to where he knew Ivan would be waiting for him in his private wings. The entire way, he could feel Natalia's cold eyes following him along the walls and he tried his best to suppress a shiver. Just a bit longer…that was it…just a bit longer and he'd be free.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

"Welcome to the heart of Germania, Iggy! Spandow, one of the most bustling cities in the world!" Arthur shot Alfred an exasperated look before he looked back at the river city of Spandow, taking in the tall buildings and sophisticated looking roads. It certainly didn't look as old as Berth, or any other city or village he'd seen so far, all of its building neat and orderly made of brick and tiles, cobblestones marking the city's traffic, both on foot and on horse. The city was built alongside a vast river, one large enough that the _Evangeline_ had no problem navigating up to get to the inland city, and at one point splintered into two and ran within the city itself. Bridge-builders, Arthur thought, must have made a fortune in this city.

Alfred gave one last excited whoop before he swung back around to the rest of the crew, dividing the group into what their specific chores would be in regards to restocking their supplies and those for the ship; Seychelles rolled her eyes from where she was beside Arthur and shot the green-eyes man a look.

"You'd think this was _his_ ship the way he goes about giving out orders. Bossy brat." Arthur grinned weakly and nodded in agreement, careful to not meet Alfred's blue gaze when it swung back to him. "So, you'll be meeting Ludwig today then yes? Good man…a bit serious though. You'd never guess he and Gilly were brothers. You looking forward to it, Kiku?"

The quiet man gave a small smile and nodded from Seychelles's other side, his black ears flicking back a bit. "It will be good to see him and Feliciano again. I wish to see how he is doing."

Feliciano Vargas…one half of the other reason they were visiting Germania besides to see Ludwig and restock. Arthur had heard the story from a drunken Gilbert a few nights back when everyone else, Alfred included, were intent on keeping their mouths shut regarding the Vargas twins, a pair that Arthur remembered from the journals he used to make his maps. There had been no power or ability listed next to their name and whenever Arthur tried to ask, he was always told that they had simply been attacked and it was left at that. But Gilbert had told him after a few beers one night, saying that Arthur deserved to know and that it was stupid to not say anything.

Feliciano and Romano Vargas were the twin grandsons of a powerful warrior from Roma, a warrior so powerful he'd collected quite a bit of power over his life, for that had been his talent. Each time he'd win a battle or a fight, he'd gain a little bit of the strength from who he defeated, winning so much that over time he became giant in stature and achieved legendary status. However, over time the vast amount of power began to weigh heavily on him and he eventually lost himself to that power. He had many children but it was his grandsons who had inherited their grandfather's legacy before he passed…all of that power and energy condensed into the two of them, making them both literally walking bunches of energy.

The twins could do all sorts of things with the energy they'd each inherited apparently, things like lighting bulbs and powering machinery, but it also granted them each endless energy which translated into them having very long lives. They'd been close to five hundred years old when Ludwig and Gilbert first met them, not looking a day over twenty; by that time, Gilbert's hearing had been stolen and he was hunting Ivan with Ludwig. Soon after, Alfred had come with his somewhat threadbare group and Gilbert had elected to join their band; Ludwig would have too if Ivan had not decided to strike at the twins that evening at their home across the river.

The shock of having that vast amount of energy stolen from the two of them had hurt them more than physically. Feliciano had lost his mind a bit…he spent most of his days wandering around, muttering about pasta (apparently he'd been quite the cook prior to Ivan attacking him) and unable to remain focused on much –the only one who seemed to keep him lucid was Ludwig. He had bonded with the younger twin despite himself, and elected to stay behind to help him; Gilbert suspected that his brother was more than a bit enamored with the idiot but he didn't try and stop him. As for the other…Romano Vargas was left with hardly any memory and could barely remember how to do daily tasks or even who his own brother was. The only one he did seem to be able to remember was a man named Antonio, who had originally been a member of Alfred's group with Francis.

"And that was just because Romano fucking hated him! It helped his face stick in his mind…that's why Antonio stayed behind, well that and he's in love with the bastard for some reason…Romano's not the nicest of guys but maybe Toni's a masochist, I don't know."

Arthur found himself hating Ivan a little bit more after hearing what had happened with the Vargas twins, wondering about them and Ludwig and Antonio in his spare time as they had sailed upriver to Spandow. It was interesting how interwoven all of these attacked people were, and how Arthur was now a part of all their lives in a way…and it certainly helped distract his mind from Alfred with his surely incessant questions about everyone's stories. But, it couldn't be helped…he knew if he kept his mind on Alfred and their 'not-quite-moment' in the Crow's Nest two weeks ago he'd go mad. So, it was really in his best interest to not focus on Alfred and actually learn something about the people he was sailing with beyond that Ivan had, in some form, ruined their lives.

Alfred, it appeared, was content to not mention their 'almost-moment' and had seemed to have forgotten it entirely, flinging Arthur easy, bright smiles and continuing with his tactile manner as if nothing had happened that night…which was utter bollocks. While this was certainly the route Arthur knew he should be welcoming and taking, a part of him didn't want to and it was infuriating; most came to learn to avoid him unless directly approached if they didn't want to be on the wrong end of his foul mood. It was bad business, this unrequited and unknown bull shit…it made Arthur want to tear his hair out, beat Alfred senseless, and curl up in a ball and cry all at once.

Alfred shouted out for everyone to head out, saddling alongside Arthur (because it was decided that Arthur did NOT go anywhere without an escort so Ivan did not have another opportunity to nab him…yet another reason to be frustrated) , smile ready on his face. "You got everything?"

And by everything, Alfred meant his writing slab and quill since it was the only way he could understand Arthur since he made no attempt to read lips or understand his body language. Arthur frowned and nodded, walking off the ship with only a slight limp, his ankle nearly at one hundred percent once more, only hurting a little if he stepped with too much weight. Alfred followed after, waving off Seychelles request to bring back some taffy from the markets, Kiku falling in step beside him and smiling softly. Gilbert waved off Vash, Esther, and Lily and jogged over as well, taking up the vacant spot besides Arthur and smiling widely.

"Damn, it is good to be back! I can smell the bratwurst and sauerkraut already! And the beer…decent stuff too, not that shit Seychelles has on the boat."

Alfred shook his head and made a face at Arthur when Gilbert said 'sauerkraut' that clearly said it was not worth trying, lifting his arms back behind his head as they walked down the cobbled roads. "Yeah, you don't want to be anywhere near him for the next few mornings. Morning after sauerkraut mixed with beer breath is not a good way to wake up, believe me!"

**Where are we going?** Arthur flashed the tablet to each man, trying to keep some sort of space between himself and Alfred (seriously, space was needed because if they kept brushing against each other Arthur wasn't sure he could be held responsible for his actions and most frowned on fornicating with questionable consent in the middle of the road).

"My brother's place of course, Eyebrows," Gilbert shouted back. Arthur grit his teeth and silently growled at the infernal nickname the pale man insisted on calling him. "He keeps an ear out for me about Ivan's movements. Hehe, an ear for me, get it? Man, if you gotta be deaf, at least you can tell all the awesome deaf jokes because of it."

"Ludwig manages an Inn, Arthur-san," Kiku said politely, completely ignoring Gilbert's comments. "Spandow is a large city and it receives many travelers, being an innkeeper keeps him abreast with all the latest gossip and news from other countries. That and it is good for Feliciano to be around people, it keeps him lucid."

Arthur nodded and risked a glance up at Alfred. Any mention of Ivan of late sent him into a sullen, angry mood, more so than usual, and mention of his victims was even worse. Alfred was frowning slightly but that seemed to be all, nothing more serious than that; Arthur glanced away hurriedly when Alfred's blue eyes looked over at him, frowning and huffing in silence. Arthur missed the exasperated and knowing looks exchanged between Kiku and Gilbert, but he knew they were there...everyone on the crew seemed to be privy to their little drama. Or 'love affair' as Seychelles was wont to call it (Arthur usually pretended to not hear her when she call it that…it was easier that way since Seychelles had a tendency to get very loud when she felt she was being ignored).

They walked through the city for close to half an hour when Gilbert pointed out a tall, simple, and the most utilitarian inn Arthur had ever seen; Gilbert rushed ahead, shouting out in a very nasal and rough language that Arthur identified as his native tongue, waving down a obscenely tall and muscled man who was busy hammering replacement panels on his roof. As Arthur approached with the others, he noticed his blond hair was slicked back and he had harried, blue eyes that looked even more stressed when they landed on Gilbert, Ludwig's handsome face grimacing as Gilbert waved up at him. He shouted back in their native tongue before he climbed down the ladder, whispering upwards in an exasperated manner all the way down Arthur spotted amusedly; it was nice to know that Gilbert tested even his own family's patience, not just theirs.

Ludwig jumped down from the ladder, his heavy boots thudding a bit and straightened up nodding at each of them politely as Gilbert introduced Arthur, sparing a small smile for Kiku, brushing the dust and wood off his hands as he gestured them inside. Gilbert related Arthur's story and the most recent of their travels to his brother, glaring at Alfred whenever the young man butt in to ask about Ivan's movements or if he'd been seen lately before he spoke louder, all the while Ludwig tried to be attentive to both conversations while also greeting Arthur. Arthur admired his restraint in not hitting either of them...he was sure he would not have been able to.

"I am sorry to hear about your misfortunes, Mr. Kirkland," Ludwig finally managed after Kiku politely asked that Ludwig be given some room to breathe. "Ivan has been a menace to many…" He trailed off and glanced behind for a moment, eyes seeming to look through the inn itself; Arthur knew who he was thinking about when he spoke the words.

**It's Arthur**. He hated being called 'Mr. Kirkland'…made him sound too much like his father.

Ludwig nodded and made to say something else, but a small man burst out from the doors of the inn at that moment, twirling in small circles and smiling vacantly, an errant, reddish-brown curl sticking out apart from the rest; Arthur couldn't help but stare and he didn't need to know who he was staring at. Feliciano Vargas made a happy, somewhat babyish sound, singing something about pasta before Ludwig went over and touched his shoulder. Ludwig spoke in even, slow words to the man and after a time, the man's eyes seemed to clear and he smiled with a bit more lucidity, turning to look at Gilbert and waving excitedly. Arthur felt a twinge of pity for the man and struggled to not let it show on his face; Alfred touched his shoulder briefly in understanding before he waved at Feliciano as well.

"Ve…all these people to see you! You are lucky, Ludwig!" Ludwig guided Feliciano over, the man proceeding to then hug Kiku tightly, catching the serious young man off guard somewhat, his tail going bushy before settling back to its sleeker appearance. "Kiku you came too! Are you staying?"

"I am afraid this is just a visit, Feli-kun," Kiku responded. He patted the frowning face softly before smiling wider than Arthur had thought possible. "But soon Gilbert and I will come back for good, I promise."

Feliciano's face was vacant for a moment before he smiled wide and nodded, turning his attention to Arthur. "And you, you're new! Who are you, do you like pasta? I love pasta…I can make you some then we can be friends!" He frowned and looked at Ludwig. "Ve…why doesn't he talk? He doesn't like me? Or pasta?"

Ludwig shook his head patiently and guided Feliciano backwards a bit, the addled man following him boneless and compliantly, murmuring to him softly (no doubt all about Arthur and how he couldn't speak). Gilbert's eyes hardened a bit as he watched his brother and Feliciano before he cocked his head to the side and smiled big and draped and arm over Kiku's shoulders. "Well, me and Foxy here will take care of business here, Hero, why don't you and Eyebrows go down to Market? You can ask after Ivan there to your heart's desire, Al."

Arthur swung around to stare at the utterly smug look gracing Gilbert's face, his red eyes leering at Arthur before he focused his attention back on Alfred, who was horrifyingly looking contemplative. Arthur glared deeply at Gilbert, promising death the first chance he got, and implored silently to Kiku, shaking his head and pantomiming that he'd kill the idiot (or snog him…but that was implied and he certainly wasn't going to act that out) if he didn't come along. Arthur was shocked at the slight shake of his head and the very fox-like smile he received opposed to the polite smile usually given. So shocked that he could do nothing but stare at the Kitsune as Alfred grabbed his arm and dragged him off, shouting to Ludwig that they'd both be back later.

Arthur growled silently at the victorious laughter echoing after him, Gilbert shouting after them to behave and have fun – Alfred merely smiled and shouted back that they would, to Arthur's further mortification.

Alfred grinned down at Arthur as he maneuvered them expertly through the crowded streets and upscale residential areas, a faint glimmer of something like shyness behind the bravado in his eyes. "You'll like Market…it's kinda like one big swap exchange with merchants from all over. We can ask around about Ivan too…not too sure how much we'll find out but it never hurts to check, right?" Alfred smiled wider as Arthur reluctantly nodded.

Arthur was still reeling from the fact that Kiku had betrayed him too, and focusing on the disbelief was helping distract from how warm and nice Alfred's hand felt wrapped around his wrist; this all resulted in him not resisting much. But that was the only reason why, let it be known.

He shook his wrist free eventually and wrote, **You don't need to drag me around like a child. **

"Oh, sorry…just didn't want you to get lost is all." Alfred scratched the side of his face and shrugged lightly. "It's a big city."

**I can navigate quite well...if you haven't noticed.** Arthur scowled as Alfred had the gall to chuckle lightly before placing a guiding hand at the center of his back and steering him left, the noise in the street growing steadily louder as they went.

"True, but none of where we've been is quite like _this_."

Alfred turned him one last corner and Arthur found himself staring at a dimmed and somewhat shoddy section of Spandow that was bustling, loud, and had shoots of bright, colored lights whizzing around along with a whole variety of creatures that were decidedly not human. Market was indeed unlike anything Arthur had ever seen, the surrounding buildings dilapidated and probably molding, but the stalls were brightly colored and the merchants even more so; he looked down one aisle and saw a group of dancers whirling about small snatches of fire from one hand to the next as their hips swayed, and another alley showed a bunch of street kids performing slight of hands to an obviously wealthy couple. Contortionists, magicians, palm readers, and anyone else Arthur surmised who would have been burned at the stake in Britannia seemed to gather in Market.

"Street magic," Alfred whispered in his ear. Arthur tore his eyes away from several floating balls of color and looked back into Alfred's excited blue eyes. "Not a lot of real stuff here, but every now and then you get lucky." He cocked his head to the right before winding down another set of bright booths and stalls, Arthur trailing after trying hard to not let himself get distracted (which was hard to do when young women who looked meshed with felines sauntered past).

Arthur stared at a collection of vendors who seemed intent on selling medicinal treatments and nearly ran into Alfred in the process, who had stopped outside one and was waiting, oddly enough, patiently for the customers to walk past. When they did, Alfred slid forward Arthur trailing after, dancing around a very small and squat man-thing which rolled past him, looking up at the red and gold booth. A young very feminine looking man leaned forward and smiled softly as Alfred said his hellos, introducing Arthur more as an afterthought before Arthur was pushed forward.

"Arthur, this is Yao, our favorite Medicine man! He's our 'inside man' to Braginski within Market—Iggy here joined us after his voice was stolen."

Yao nodded enigmatically and leaned forward, his dark eyes studying the red band around Arthur's neck for a moment before he nodded and sat back. "Arthur Kirkland, I've heard of you. They call you a 'siren,' Ivan's family. You're very lucky to still be with young Alfred here…I imagine the others Ivan has taken think so as well."

Arthur did not care for the nickname he'd been bestowed but he could understand why Ivan's 'family,' as Yao called the others he had stolen, would refer to him as such. He nodded his agreement at Yao, looking up at Alfred's intense gaze for a moment before he rolled his eyes and huffed silently. The merchant smiled and gave Arthur an appraising look before turning his attention back to Alfred.

"He certainly didn't lose any of his spirit, did he?"

Alfred grinned weakly, no doubt sensing Arthur's glare on him, a silent warning to think carefully how he answered if he didn't want his foot stepped on, and shrugged. "Guess not. But Yao, have you heard anything more about Braginski's movements? He showed up in the Nords a few weeks ago when we were there but we haven't heard a thing about him since then…"

Arthur groaned silently and turned away from the booth; he was tired of questioning every person they came across (even if this Yao man seemed to be more of a contact than some of the others) about Ivan and if they had seen or heard of him. Ever since the events in the Nords, Ivan had been, according to the crew since they knew much better than Arthur, strangely quiet. Usually, he was out and about, or if he wasn't, one of his associates were, scouting for new talents or stealing life from children left unprotected…but there had been nothing of late. And even though it was good to hear that small children weren't having their youth sucked out, Arthur knew that the reason for the reprieve was likely just as bad.

Still, the nonstop obsession the crew (ok, mainly Alfred) had taken in regards to finding Ivan was beginning to wear on him; he wanted to find him as much as the next, but they certainly weren't being smart about it. Asking everyone and their mother, literally in some cases, about Ivan was only going to reveal their own position and reinforce to Ivan that they didn't have a bleeding clue as to where he was. But, it wasn't as if he could voice his opinions…and his tablet only went so far (especially when he needed to write a whole paragraph…). He wondered idly if this was just going to happen naturally to him the longer he stayed with the crew, with Alfred, and it troubled him a bit but it wasn't as if he would even consider leaving…

Arthur tuned out Alfred and Yao and glanced around some of the surrounding booths and stalls in Market, green eyes taking in all the unusual sights and smells as well as the people passing through. When he turned a bit to the left, he spotted something different though, something that looked like the floating lights he spotted earlier, but these seemed to move with conscious thought and the light fluctuated around them, not unlike a person's voice. He glanced furtively at Alfred, who was still deeply engaged with the dark-eyed merchant, and smirked before he snuck off. It was about time that boy learned that Arthur was more than capable of looking after himself (Ivan aside, but he certainly couldn't be faulted for that), and that he certainly couldn't keep Arthur where he didn't want to be kept.

He weaved through the throngs of people, keeping his tablet and quill close to him, his satchel and short sword bound to his shoulder and waist respectively, making his way steadily towards the little booth off to the side where most didn't seem to spot it. His eyes squinted curiously as he drew closer to the bobbing and hovering lights, able to make out outlines within the light…outlines that looked suspiciously like little bodies with wings. He stopped in front of the booth and stared at two exquisitely pretty fairies (because honestly, what else could they be?), who were arguing with each other before they noticed he was looking at them. The taller one with blue wings and dark hair flew up to eye level and smiled brightly, clapping her hands in delight while the shorter who looked all white save for dark eyes flew up in to his hair and giggled in delight.

"Welcome, welcome sir! We are so pleased that you can see us…not many can you see. Please, how can we help you? We have many, many goods and charms that would interest you! All Faerie made of course! Periwinkle! Get out of his hair…you'll frighten away the customer!" The blue-winged fairy snapped at the smaller, little fangs appearing as she yelled before she remembered herself and smiled sweetly, a row of perfect, small teeth gleaming back at Arthur. "I do apologize, sir, she is young and not knowing."

Arthur shook his head and smiled gently before he wrote down on his tablet, **It is no bother. You're the first fairies I've ever seen.**

The blue winged fairy narrowed her eyes at him for a moment in confusion before a sympathetic look overtook her face. "You cannot speak! Oh, I do apologize sir, I did not know…I can see the band now. You were cursed, sir? Cursed to silence?"

Arthur frowned but tried not to look too bitter as the smaller, and now obviously younger, fairy flew up beside the blue-winged fairy and hugged her around the middle. **More like stolen from, actually.**

Blue-wings frowned darkly and rested her tiny hands on Arthur's nose, Periwinkle coming after…looking at them made him go a bit cross-eyed and tickled but he resisted the urge to swat. "Stolen? I know of one who steals…he is a bad man! He is cold as winter and steals from the mother Earth! He has stolen from you, sir?"

Arthur nodded slowly and the fairy flew of his nose and hovered before him. Periwinkle made a sad, soft noise and hugged the side of his face before she flew back down to the counter of their stand. "We are sorry for you, sir, Periwinkle and I both. It must be terrible to have your magicks stolen away!"

Arthur nodded and smiled softly. **You don't need to call me sir. My name is Arthur.**

The blue-winged fairy clapped her hands and nodded enthusiastically. "Then I shall call you Sir Arthur! I am called Maribel and Periwinkle here is my young cousin…you must have strong magicks to see us, not many can."

**Must be hard to do business. **Arthur glanced around and noticed how most walked straight past the little stall, eyes gliding over it, unable to see. Maribel nodded her head somewhat sadly, her small eyes looking out over the throng of people for a moment, but then she sniffed and gave a bright grin.

"But we still come! Just means our goods go to those who are not blind! People like you, Sir Arthur! Come, let me show you!"

Arthur glanced behind his shoulder for a moment to where Alfred still was with Yao, engrossed in some kind of argument, scowling for a moment before he turned back to the fairies, Maribel's eyes following his before looking back. **I am afraid I don't have any money on me at the moment.**

Maribel glanced back again once and shook her head with a grin. "The Faerie have no use for silly things like coins and papers. And because you have been so very polite and suffered through dark magicks, I will offer you a special deal!" She twinkled something at Periwinkle, sending the smaller fairy diving under the booth, and then flew up close to Arthur. "We will give you a special magic, one that could help you in what you suffer in exchange for a promise from you."

Arthur felt warning bells go off in his head but asked anyway. Fairies were not notorious for being as great of tricksters as Sprites, but he knew from legends that their deals were binding and not to be made lightly. Still, they were practically giving something to him, something that they said could help him in what he suffered…it didn't take much to figure that meant something to do with his voice. **What would you have me promise?**

"You hunt down the bad man who steals, yes? I know that boy talking with Elder Yao, he hunts down the man and you are with him. I ask that when you have your gift back, to help give the mother Earth back her gifts too. Not bad, yes?"

Arthur stared for a moment at the fairy, thinking over his answer carefully as her eyes blinked hopefully at him. It didn't sound that bad at all, considering he likely would not stop hunting Ivan until he had his voice back but…how did she expect him to return magic Ivan stole from the earth back? Still, maybe there was a way…Vash was with them to try and regain Lily's youth after all…he supposed the magic of the earth couldn't be all that different from a person's youth. In terms of restoring it at least…then again, Arthur had not really given much thought _how_ they were even going to go about taking their stolen gifts back…

"Sir Arthur?" Maribel questioned. "I promise there are no tricks in my offer. We never trick those who can See us!"

**A promise to help you, that is really all you want?**

"Yes, that is all we ask and want."

Well, what the hell? **Ok, I agree.**

Maribel clapped her hands and twirled in happy circles before twinkling at Periwinkle, who came floating back up with a woven, leather strap that had an odd looking metallic disc fixed in the center. The disc was flat and multi-colored, shifting from brass to blue, blue to silver, and silver to crimson depending on how it was held and when Arthur took it from the two small fairies, he was surprised with how cool it felt to the touch…much colder than he supposed a piece of metal would. He didn't put it on, as it was undoubtedly some kind of pendant or charm, but neither of the fairies seemed perturbed by it.

"This will help you speak without voice to whom your heart as words for. I am happy to give you this in hopes that you will one day not need to use it." Maribel had an odd look on her face as she gave it to him, as if she was referring to something else when she hoped he'd get his voice back. He wanted to ask further but one of his hands was occupied and it made it a pain to try and write anything so he didn't press; the fairies twirled back down to their booth, Periwinkle waving at him while Maribel bowed as any merchant would after a sale.

"I am grateful that you stopped by our stall in Market today, Sir Arthur. And I hope you find all that you are looking for."

And with those words, as if they had no desire to remain at market for any other potential customers, the two fairies and their stall disappearing in a flash and a wink of light, leaving Arthur staring at an empty patch dirt. He remained motionless and staring for a few moments, half wondering what exactly had just happened, before he glanced down at the metallic pendant in his hand. He was so busy staring he didn't feel the second presence until the large hand settled over his shoulder, startling him quickly. He whirled around with quick, silent breaths and relaxed slightly when he was met with only Alfred's half concerned, half amused eyes.

"You ok, Iggy? You're kinda staring at a patch of dirt…"

Arthur scowled and brushed aside Alfred's hand and nodded, slipping the pendant in his tunic before he wrote down his response. **Of course I am…and it's ARTHUR you imbecile.**

"Oh, ok…well, want to head out then? Yao gave me the info I needed but we can still check some other places in Market…unless you want to keep zoning out over here."

Arthur glared at the teasing smile. **I was not 'zoning' out! I was conducting business with a pair of fairies but they up and vanished…**

Alfred started to chuckle lightly as he read Arthur's response, which Arthur did not care for in the slightest. **Why are you laughing?**

"It's just…fairies? Come on, Iggy…"

**Yes, fairies! They were right here!**

"Ok, whatever you say, Arthur, whatever you say." Alfred hooked an arm around Arthur and herded them away, laughing all the while. Arthur was stunned…this young man met with magic nearly every day and he was DOUBTING the existence of fairies? Arthur tore himself away and stomped angrily, glaring backwards when Alfred's chuckles floated up to him.

It really just figured…

TBC…

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Note: More of a filler chapter, but lots of good stuff gets introduced for all of you! And it was longer. All of you are awesome and please review! Keep the juices flowing!

*Oksana – Ukraine

**Asmin - Aremenia


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Of Silence and Thievery (7/?)  
Genre: humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Notice how the projected length of this thing keeps getting longer...damn it. This is kind of an experiment. I've had this idea in my head for awhile and figured I'd give it a shot, and if it turned out all right, work on this as an original work. Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

**USUKUSUKUSUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_**Chapter Seven: Where the Inevitable Happens Much to Arthur's Dismay (or Joy)**_

Based on Alfred's less-than-believing reaction to Arthur's claim that he spoke with fairies in Market, Arthur decided to not tell the idiot about the charm they had given him or the deal he'd made to get said charm. If the boy could believe in magic stealing sorcerers but not fairies (which were just as real, not make believe), Arthur wasn't going to waste his time trying to prove his sanity when he knew it was very much intact. And he'd figure out what the sodding hell the pendant he'd received from the fairies was meant for on his own too. Alfred seemed not to notice the stormy mood he'd put Arthur in with his teasing and continued on through Market with a bit of a bounce in his step.

Knowing the bounce had something to do with what the merchant Alfred visited, Yao, had said Arthur decided that if he wasn't going to talk about fairies and their magic, he could talk about that…the fairies had called him Elder Yao, he remembered. Maybe he could revisit him and he'd believe that Arthur was speaking with fairies and could help with the pendant. He tapped Alfred's shoulder as they left Market and headed back towards Ludwig's inn, the sun beginning to wan in the sky. **Who was that merchant? Did he know anything about Ivan?**

Alfred smiled wide and nodded his head eagerly; Arthur firmly ignored the slight flip his stomach always seemed to make whenever Alfred smiled like that (he was still angry, he reminded himself, for Alfred teasing him about the fairies…had to remember that). "You bet your eyebrows he did! Yao told me that Braginski is sitting at home, pretty much licking his wounds after he got his ass kicked in the Nords!"

Arthur hardly thought Ivan got his 'ass kicked' by any means; in fact it was very much the reverse, but he supposed he could understand that he was defeated in the sense he didn't get what he came for. **He knows where Ivan's stronghold is?**

"I wish, but no…but he's got ears all over that tell him that Braginski hasn't been out of hiding, that he's been sending his little 'associates' out for him. But that's good because that means others aren't being attacked and we have more of a chance of finding where his safehold is! It's easier to find someone if they aren't always moving around…"

Arthur nodded in distracted agreement (that kind of agreement that was made because there were more pressing things that needed to be done and it wasn't worth the effort to disagree) before he tapped Alfred again and repeated his initial question. **And the merchant? **

Alfred gave Arthur a look before he chuckled lightly and brought them both to a stop, his hand resting warmly against Arthur's shoulder. "I was getting to that, old man! Jeez, you're so pushy sometimes."

Arthur glared deeply and balled his hand with the quill into a fist, taking a threatening step toward the obnoxious young man; it did not help his mood that Alfred merely chuckled more and placed his other hand on Arthur's remaining shoulder. "Ok, ok, I'm kidding! I met Yao through Kiku a few years ago…he's like a shaman or something, but he's got lots of different skills and helps us out from time to time. He's like hundreds of years old too…at least according to Kiku he is."

**Why does he help us against Ivan?**

Alfred shrugged and took his hands away, shoving them deep into his pockets and kicking the ground every now and then as they started to make their way back to Ludwig's inn. "Don't know…I guess for the same reason anyone else would. Yao doesn't talk about why he wants Braginski to be caught, and it sure doesn't seem like he's had any of his abilities stolen away…so maybe Braginski stole something else from him."

**Like a person?**

"Maybe…that's what I think. But who knows…the guy is way too secretive and Kiku's no help either. All I know is that he wants to help us or others like us find Braginski and take back what he stole and that's good enough for me."

Alfred smiled brightly and convincingly but Arthur couldn't help thinking how foolish that line of thought was; this Yao could very well be a horrible person or have some other ulterior motive that was unsavory…wanting Ivan to give back what he stole hardly qualified him as a good person. Still, the fairies had called him 'elder' with respect…he supposed it was safe to assume that Yao wasn't secretly working with Ivan or some other such nonsense. Alfred whistled lightly as the sun continued downward, painting the city in a soft glow, and Arthur sighed noiselessly; he wasn't going to learn anymore about Yao this night…anything else would require him to speak with the merchant directly.

Still…how had Yao known him? And what was that whole 'siren' business? Arthur kept his thoughts occupied the rest of the walk back, not commenting on any of the inane babble coming from Alfred beyond nodding his head every now and then, with these questions, wondering what purpose calling him such a name meant. He knew the legends of Sirens (he had owned quite a few books on the subject actually), knew what they were famous for and knew that they didn't just exist to lure sailors to their doom. He also knew that they weren't human so calling him one seemed silly since he was very much human…which left his 'voice' as the reason.

He had never tested what his 'voice' could really do back in Britannia. It was dangerous, his parents had told him, and then later it could ruin them his brothers had said…and he could concede the point as there wasn't much sense in practicing an ability that could get him burned at the stake. But now…now he was wondering about what it could really do? Yes, he made inanimate object move and do what he wished and yes, he could make his brothers stop acting like idiots…but was that really what he had been doing? He had, essentially, been influencing behavior and actions simply because a tick in his voice compelled the listener to do so…and what about how he created that beacon in the Nords when Ivan had been attacking? He had created that without real conscious thought as to what he wanted; he just knew he needed to be found…that Alfred had needed for them to be found.

"Hey…what ya thinking about?" You went awful quiet…well more than—I mean, you know what I mean," Alfred fumbled. Arthur blinked up and looked into the concerned blue eyes before he dragged his eyes away, shaking his head to indicate nothing was wrong (if there was any advantage to not being able to speak, it was how he could avoid conversation he did not wish to participate in). He heard Alfred huff disbelievingly but the boy didn't pursue the subject further.

Whatever his gift could or couldn't do wasn't really what Arthur should be focusing on, he thought to himself in the ensuing silence. No, what he should be focusing on is getting his ability to speak back…he could worry about the rest later and it wouldn't do him, or anyone else, any good in worrying about what his 'gift' really was when he had more important things to concern himself with. Like the odd, little pendant the fairies had given him and the somewhat hasty promise he'd struck with them—yes that was definitely something he could work out at the present time and was probably a lot less complicated than trying to analyze his own, ever-confusing vocal tick.

Dusk had settled by the time they reached Ludwig's inn, but the noise and lights coming from inside certainly made up for the lack of sunlight or street lamps; Arthur cringed internally as he heard very drunken voice singing the closer he got. Alfred glanced at him and chuckled lightly, reaching up and fiddling with his glasses a bit before he took them off and wiped them clean. The young man didn't need to say anything…Arthur knew that the moment he stepped into that inn that he was going to be greeted by the very dunk crew of the _Evangeline_ (with perhaps the exception of Lily and Kiku of course) and there wasn't really anything to be done about it except to accept it.

Alfred went in first and his name was boomed from the crew and other patrons, obvious regulars for Ludwig who were familiar enough with the _Evangeline_ crew to be _that_ drunk around them, and Arthur slipped in after, trying discreetly to stay out of sight. If there was something he hated most about not being able to speak was being surrounded by drunken idiots who did nothing but speak and always asked him questions. Alfred gave him a small, sacrificing smile and a shooing motion, indicating that Arthur should head up while he still could, but Arthur only made it as far as the stairs before Francis wrapped an arm around his shoulders and dragged him back. Alfred shrugged apologetically before he was grabbed by Seychelles and ordered to help her in a drinking contest; Arthur's glare promised very painful death.

"Now, now, _mon ami_, I think it is time you shared a drink with us! No sneaking away tonight!" Francis was obviously quite imbibed already if he seriously thought that Arthur wanted to have a drink with the lecherous man, but he was already forced in a chair and had a tankard shoved under his face so there wasn't much help for it. Gilbert was cackling from beside a tall, tan and smiling man whom Arthur did not recognize, his red eyes showing he was already well past drunk, bumping into the dark-haired man every now and then as he swayed on his seat. Francis chuckled and waved Arthur towards the tankard before he took a hearty gulp of his champagne (which Arthur inwardly sneered at…they were in a bar for goodness sake! You drank beer in a bar…) – Arthur sighed silently and took a gulp of his own.

"There ya go! Time to have some fun…is'not like you have any!" Arthur glared at Gilbert's slurred words, and glanced around for Alfred or perhaps Kiku…someone who he could make an excuse for as to why he needed to bugger off. "Artie, Artie, this here is Toni! We found 'im today when you were on your 'date' with Hero, over there!"

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Antonio began while Arthur flushed and glared even deeper at Gilbert. "I've heard of your misfortune…it must be hard, not having a voice."

Arthur scribbled a vulgar insult at Gilbert (emphasizing it was certainly NOT a date) before glaring menacingly at Antonio; words or no, he could still display his displeasure well enough. Antonio's easy smile slid off his face and he took a hurried gulp of his beer, Francis chuckling louder under his breath before he swung off his seat and swept an annoyed Esther into his arms. Esther was, understandably to Arthur, not pleased and swung her elbow into Francis gut, leaving Gilbert to stumble over and drunkenly laugh while he helped a prostrate Francis to his feet. Arthur looked around, his eyes catching on Alfred has he and Seychelles went shot-for-shot with a burly set of men, before he shook his head and took another gulp of beer.

"So, how are liking it on the _Evangeline_? Different from Britannia, yes?" Arthur turned back to the cheerful Antonio, who was looking at him with slightly bleary but still lucid eyes. He was very tan, speaking of many years spent in the sun, and had an overall pleasant demeanor…Arthur wondered for a moment if he'd had anything stolen from him or if he simply joined Alfred's group for Francis. He remembered someone on the ship say that he'd been close with the seer prior to having his Sight…but he had stayed behind because he'd fallen for a damaged young man who now could only remember him. It was sad when he thought about it…sad for Ludwig too.

**It's fine.** Arthur wrote succinctly…he had spent most of the day writing down his words, he didn't want his hand to cramp up the next morning. Antonio nodded and hummed before he downed the rest of his beer, smiling brightly and grabbing a small, young man around the waist who was stomping by. Arthur noticed that the young man, apart from having a furious scowl and dark brown hair, looked very similar to Feliciano, hair curl and all – Romano Vargas swore violently and knocked away Antonio with a few punches and kicks. Arthur watched in fascination as Antonio simply smiled wider, his face a spitting image of a love struck fool.

"Love, my little _Palermo_*, don't be like that! How are you doing? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tired…you look tired, come let me sing you a lullaby!"

"You touch me and I'll cut something off you'll miss in the morning, stupid tomato-bastard!" Well, Romano Vargas was much more lucid than his twin, that was for sure…where Feliciano had been all sunshine a roses (or pasta as it were), Romano was spitfire and brimstone. Arthur cocked his head and narrowed his eyes a bit…one could almost imagine smoke coming from between clenched teeth not unlike an angry dragon; he was inclined to believe Gilbert's claim that this Antonio was a bit of a masochist to chase after this little hellion. "Who are you?"

"This is Arthur, _mi hermoso_*. He has recently joined Alfred, you remember Alfred, the tall obnoxious one with the glasses; they are hunting down Ivan…this man has had his voice stolen because it had great power." Arthur shot an annoyed look at the exaggerated way the man spoke…Romano glared deeper before he hit Antonio again and stomped off, swearing loudly before he vanished behind a door to the back room with a slam. Arthur arched his eyebrows at Antonio, who didn't look all that put off by the less-than-pleasant reaction, before he muttered silently and drained the rest of his beer…funny how he was already finished.

"It is good for my Lovi, Arthur, for me to antagonize him like that," Antonio's words drifted up. Arthur turned his attention back to the sun-kissed man, shrugging his shoulders in the half-hearted agreement of a man who'd possibly downed his tankard a little too quickly. It really wasn't fair…as often as he was around his brothers' taverns, he ought to have more of tolerance for alcohol…Arthur glared at Alfred who still looked annoyingly perky after a stack of shots. "No, really! He remembers people better if they annoy him…it helps jog his memory and the more he remembers, the better."

"Another round here! And what the hell are you doing, you Españaird? Barmaid, this man needs a drink now!" Gilbert glanced at Arthur before he shouted again. "Two for the mopey one, he could use it!"

Gilbert roared his happiness around the bar, most of the crew (minus Kiku who never raised his voice), joining with him and Arthur blinked resignedly at the large tankards plopped in front of him again. Oh well…wasn't like there was much else for him to be doing that night anyway…the pendant could wait until the morning.

**USUKUSUKUSUKUSUKUSUK**

Arthur, once again, in a disturbingly familiar pattern, awoke with a headache and a vile taste in his mouth.

He blinked blearily for a moment, adjusting his eyes to the unfamiliar surroundings (feeling brief alarm that he was not in his cabin on the ship), when he remembered the previous night and the probably ill-advised number of beers he'd indulged in. He groaned soundlessly and flopped his head back on his pillow, wrinkling his nose at the slight drool stain he spotted. He would have fallen back asleep and tried to sleep off the horrible hangover he could feel brewing, but right at the moment he let his eyes droop, a he felt a very warm, very real arm smack the space next to him, grazing his bare arm. His eyes shot open and he pushed himself upright, swimming head be damned, and stared, in slight horror, at the sleeping form of Alfred.

Arthur could do no more than blink for the next few moments, his eyes taking in the fact that Alfred was not wearing a tunic and the one he himself had on was a bit larger than necessary, before he shot out of the bed and landed on his rump on the floor. He was still wearing pants (always a good sign) and he could see the tops of Alfred's breeches under the sheets so he was able to calm down slightly…but he was still wearing Alfred's shirt so he couldn't calm down that much. He gingerly stood up, trying to make as little noise as possible, and hurriedly wracked his mind over the events of the previous night…

He'd definitely had more than a few of those damn tankards…and he recalled fuzzily that at one point he'd torn off his tunic and joined Gilbert in a drunken jig…perhaps it was better to pretend he didn't remember that. Arthur shook his head and stared back at the sleeping Alfred; he didn't know how he'd ended up in this room or how Alfred had either…he glanced down at the slightly-too-long sleeve of the shirt he was wearing for a moment before looking back at Alfred. He felt something warm pool in his stomach, something like what he felt in the Crow's Nest, as he looked at the young man sleeping peacefully, if a bit sprawled out, looking much younger in slumber, much more like the barely grown boy he was.

He groaned and got to his feet, slipping on his boots and grabbing his tablet (inconspicuously placed near his door…looking at it he also recalled someone, Francis most likely, cat-calling Alfred that consensual sex was best and to let Arthur say his peace…he would also pretend like he didn't remember that either) and quill on the way out of the room. This was all becoming much too complicated for his tastes…all this blushing and swooping stomach aches and warm skin that felt entirely too comfortable when he woke up. It was a bother and left him feeling strangely aching whenever he walked away…

He walked softly down the hall of what had to be the second floor of Ludwig's inn, thankful that even his breathing was silent since the whole building had the feel of nursing a hangover. Walking down the stairs, he could see a passed out Gilbert on top of one of the tables, an entirely unhealthy number of empty beer mugs surrounding him and Ludwig cleaning the counters. Feliciano was sitting beside him on a stool, singing softly and playing a game with his fingers on the counter as Ludwig worked. He still had a headache, but waking up next to a shirtless Alfred beside him had certainly shocked most of the haziness out of his system and he spared a polite nod for Ludwig when the tall man noticed him; Arthur waved awkwardly at a beaming Feliciano, not entirely sure how to act around the addled man.

"You're up much earlier than expected," Ludwig commented. His face didn't betray any amusement or condemnation, but Arthur suspected he saw a little of both in his haggard eyes; Arthur shrugged and took a seat on the opposite side of Ludwig, not next to Feliciano. "Do you need a tonic? Trying to match drinks with my brother was not your best decision of the night..."

Arthur nodded in agreement to poor judgment and wrote down the rest of his answer, trying not to look uncomfortable with how animated Feliciano became at the sight of the fiery orange letters. **No tonic, thank you though. Is he all right?**

Arthur pointed his quill at the obliterated Gilbert, smirking slightly at the exasperation practically leaking off the blond man's face. "He'll be fine…he always gets like this when he visits. Feli! Leave his quill alone, it's not yours."

Arthur turned quickly and tried to keep the grimace off his face at how the end of his feathered quill was damp…with saliva…wonderful. Feliciano had a vacant expression as Ludwig scolded him before he smiled and sat back down on his stool, twirling in his seat and humming senselessly. Ludwig shrugged apologetically before he went back to cleaning tankards.

"You'll have to excuse him…all the excitement last night has him less focused than usual this morning. People are good for him…a mob of drunken idiots however, not so much."

**It's fine…do you think you're making and progress with him?**

Ludwig shrugged noncommittally, glancing at Feliciano for a moment with a rare look of fondness. "Perhaps. I do not believe he will be well until he is restored with what was stolen…him nor Romano. Ivan has much to atone for…"

Arthur nodded shortly, his eyes focusing on Feliciano with a pang of pity, knowing that, as much as Antonio claimed that Romano remembered more the more he was annoyed (Arthur could remember that much of the night), Ludwig was most likely right. That energy they had each inherited was too much a part of them…in stealing it, Ivan took away an integral and necessary part of who they were; they could not live as normal without it. Arthur felt a selfish stab of gratefulness that he'd only lost his voice in his encounter with Ivan…looking at Feliciano and what he was now, remembering how lost and confused Romano had looked underneath all that anger, even thinking back on little Lily and how her childhood, her very life, had been stolen…

Perhaps he'd gotten off lucky in the grand scheme of things, even if being completely silent was a right pain in the arse.

Silent…Arthur inhaled sharply, but soundlessly so Ludwig did not notice, and dug his hand into the pockets of his pants, pulling out the smooth, metallic pendant and remembering what he wanted to do today. He glanced around once more, the only change in the quiet of the inn being that, apparently, Antonio had passed out under the table Gilbert was on and was now groaning about needing to find a bathroom. He tapped the counter a few times and flashed Ludwig a question.

**Would the Market be open at this hour?**

Ludwig arched his eyebrow at the question but he nodded nonetheless. "As it's after midday, yes…the Market is always open, but you should not go alone. Alfred informed me that Ivan has already attempted to steal you away in the Nords. Spandow is quite a bit larger, and more dangerous at that for someone who is not familiar with the city."

Arthur scowled and scribbled down angrily, **I am not invalid; I can look after myself. **

Ludwig stared for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of arguing internally, before he shrugged and nodded his head, sighing when Feliciano spit up on the freshly cleaned counters and began making drawings with his fingers, calling for Ludwig's attention with a wide smile. Arthur slid off the stool and made his way back up the stairs, entering the room he'd shared with Alfred in silence and quickly changing into a set of his own clothing, glancing at the sleeping Alfred every now and then to make sure he was still asleep. He knew he probably should wait for at least someone to awaken and go with him, but he didn't know who was still hung-over and asleep and who had already departed back to the ship, it being midday and all (he could not remember a time when he'd slept in so late…) and he did not want Alfred to come.

He sighed and shook his head as he tossed a light traveling cloak over his shoulders; he was perfectly capable of making a trip to the Market on his own. He grabbed his satchel once dressed and made his way out of the inn, nodding at Ludwig's warning that if Alfred asked where Arthur went, he'd tell him; he rolled his eyes as he stepped out into the street of Spandow. Arthur kept his head down and tried to walk in the shade as much as possible to avoid the sunlight (his hangover did not appreciate the brightness) as he made his way back towards Market, remembering the way there with no issue. He walked for close to an hour before he arrived, relieved that Market seemed to be in an area that was perpetually shady (in both uses of the word he though amusedly) and out of the sun.

He walked around the different stalls, trying to spot if he could see the fairies' stand again while he looked, but they were nowhere to be found…which slightly worried him if he was honest with himself. It suggested that they'd been there for him and he wasn't sure how he felt about that; Arthur pushed the thought aside and returned to looking for the mysterious Yao's medicinal stand. It was a bit difficult to find, as the stands and vendors seemed to have switched places overnight, but eventually he found the red and gold stand, waiting for a pair of old women to drift away before he stepped forward. Yao's ageless eyes smiled at him as he approached, the man's youthful and girlish face relaxing into a knowing and expectant look as Arthur approached.

"Hello there, siren. I was wondering if you'd wander back today; you left looking like you still had questions…not hard to imagine if you're travelling with one like Alfred." Yao motioned Arthur forward with a delicate hand, taking a seat on his stool and looking over at Arthur inquisitively, as if he was a particularly interesting problem that was waiting to e solved with the correct set of numbers or equations. Arthur didn't much care for being examined but he came forward nonetheless, fishing for the metallic pendant and setting it down on the table. Yao looked at it for a moment while Arthur scribbled on his tablet, flashing his words to the merchant once finished.

**Fairies gave this to me…they called you 'Elder.' **

Yao hummed after reading the words, but didn't comment on the 'elder' part, instead simply taking the pendant in between his fingers and bringing it up to his tableside lamp, watching the light flash of the metallic surface, changing the colors between blue and bronze. Arthur stayed still for a few moments, let Yao look over the pendant before he scrawled down his next words. **They traded it to me for a promise…and they said it could help me speak in a way.**

"And let me guess, young Alfred could not see them and did not believe you." Yao grinned at the nod and glare Arthur gave him as his answer. "That boy spends too much of his attention on things out of reach as opposed to things in front of him…but, I suppose he can be forgiven in this instance. Fairies are notoriously picky on how they allow to see them, even amongst those with magic."

**Magic?**

Yao glanced back up at him and handed back the pendant. "I suppose you're more used to calling it a talent or gift…but in the end, it's just magic manifesting in some form. Does it make you uncomfortable, considering where you're from?"

Arthur shook his head quickly, half believing his denial; magic wasn't terrible it just…well, it certainly sounded much more exotic than having an odd vocal tick. **So, the pendant…do you know anything about it?**

"I know that whatever you promised to get this must have either been a high price or the fairies took a shine to you. I'm inclined to think they liked you and felt bad about falling victim to Ivan…they have no more reason to care for him than you do. It's powerful, I can tell just by touching, practically vibrating with power…as for what it can do, I couldn't hazard a guess. Did they tell you what it could be used for?"

Arthur nodded and related what they said in a set of short sentences. The tablet was definitely a useful tool, but it certainly didn't help when he needed to say more than a sentence at a time. He told Yao the promise he made and what Maribel had told him the pendant could do, helping him to speak to one his 'heart' had words for or some other such nonsense, shrugging his shoulders once he was finished, rubbing his temples to try and ward off the headache he felt blooming. He gave Yao an unamused look as the merchant began to chuckle after he finished his story.

"Well, I can promise you that you certainly got off easy on your trade…usually fairies demand a first born child or something." Yao grinned at the horrified look that crossed Arthur's face before he waved his hands in front of him. "Kidding…but generally their deals are a bit harsher than what they gave you…after all, they gave you a promise you're seeking to fulfill anyways, correct? To take back what Ivan as stolen and return the magic to where it belongs? Seems like they gave you a gift for free; it's nice of them to be so generous."

Arthur thought about Yao's words a moment and supposed he was correct in the sense that he was sort of going about his promise as it was…but it still was slightly odd that the promise was focused on _him_ being the one to give back the gifts, magic…whatever. He certainly wasn't traveling alone or working alone in his goal so…why the focus on him? Yao cleared his throat, bringing Arthur's attention back to the merchant who was still smiling in that irritatingly knowing fashion.

"If you want my opinion on how that gift works, I suggest wearing it. It's a pendant after all…seems logical to assume that it will work only once it's worn." Arthur sighed silently and rolled his eyes at the answer, already fearing that to figure out how to use the pendant he'd just have to try it out…he had been hoping that Yao would have a better answer for him though. **Why did they call you Elder Yao?**

"Out of respect, I would think. Fey creatures are nothing if not ones to honor traditions and in the fairies' eyes, I'm quite a bit older than they are." Yao smiled and nodded at Arthur's accepting expression…Yao looked as if he was barely out of his teenage years, but considering all that had happened in the past few months, he wasn't surprised. Alfred had implied that Yao was powerful and older than he appeared…looking into the wise, ageless brown eyes, Arthur was inclined to agree. "Now, I think you should wander back the road you came, you look tired and Spandow is not a safe city for one who cannot yell out for help should one need it."

Arthur nodded huffily (just because the words may be correct didn't mean Arthur had to like them), flashing his thanks to the merchant briefly before he turned away from the stall. He walked a few steps before he stopped and scrawled another question, his curiosity getting the better of him. **Why are you helping Alfred against Ivan?**

Yao was quiet, so quiet that Arthur felt a twinge of regret in his question, but the merchant smiled gently after a time, locking eyes with Arthur. "My reasons are my own, Mr. Kirkland, and though I may find you a good enough man, I'm afraid it's a bit too personal for sharing. Trust me though when I say I have my reasons for wishing to see Ivan stopped and you have nothing to fear from me. Now, go back and assure your young leader that you are well…he worries for you, you know."

Arthur didn't quite know how to respond so he simply nodded and turned away, leaving the sounds of the Market, Yao's vague words, and his observations concerning Alfred behind him. As he walked back to the inn, he glanced down at the pendant still in his hands every so often, feeling a bit more reassured as to why he'd been given it, but still unsure how exactly it was meant to help him. Yao had certainly been a help, but he found he had more questions than answers after their discussion; Arthur sighed and stuffed the pendant away in his pants pocket, tucking the tablet and quill away in his satchel.

He was grateful his headache from waking earlier in the afternoon was beginning to ebb away as he approached Ludwig's inn once more, and spotted Esther and Vash outside the inn as he made his way to the door. Esther spared him a slight despairing look, a look that clearly said he deserved what was coming to him; Vash simply yelled at him in a language Arthur didn't recognize before he stomped off. Wonderful…he'd been gone for no more than a few hours and apparently that had been enough to work the crew up into a frenzy…and by crew he meant Alfred.

He pushed into the inn and was immediately met with calls of his name, questions of if he was all right, and more than a few grumbles (mostly from Gilbert who, despite no longer being passed out on a table, still looked quite drunk), waving off the questions and shooting the man he knew was the ringleader a dark look. Alfred had put down a tablet of paper on Ludwig's counter and countered the dark look with one of his own, which made Arthur feel distinctly uncomfortable…especially when Alfred pushed through the throng of the crew and latched onto Arthur's arm. Arthur squawked soundlessly and tried to pull away, but Alfred ignored his efforts, his grip steel and infused with the strength that was mostly stolen from him; he looked around, silently beseeching anyone to help him, but his plea was met with a mixture of annoyance and shrugs. Arthur wondered briefly, as he was being dragged up stairs, just how how worried Alfred had been…and no, that stupid feeling of warmth in his stomach was just a result from his hangover.

Alfred, rather rudely Arthur though, tossed Arthur into the room they'd both been sleeping in earlier, slamming the door and fixing a very serious, very upset look at the silent man, his breathing quick and uneven in his anger. Arthur watched Alfred from his spot against the wall for a moment, trying to judge if it was safe to try and reach for his tablet…he'd just explain about the pendant and Yao and surely Alfred would calm down and stop acting like a toddler throwing a tantrum. However, when Arthur rolled his eyes and opened his satchel, a hand shot out and pounded into the wall beside Arthur's head, snapping Arthur's face upwards immediately, surprise and maybe a bit of fear (surely not more than the surprise) painting his face for a moment before he slipped the satchel off and dropped it to the ground.

"Don't…just, just don't." Alfred's voice was low and gravelly, rough with emotion. Arthur watched the young man as he pushed his hand away and began to pace across the room; he stayed where he was, thinking Alfred looked not unlike a wild jungle beast before a flood of words tumbled out.

"What the hell were you thinking? Going out alone when, when we're all either still passed out or sleeping…Spandow is in Germania, Arthur, not Britiannia! People _use_ their gifts here and…and you can't even talk, what would you have done if you ran into a gang or something?"

Arthur felt his surprise and initial fear melt away and he glared darkly, motioning to his bag at the ground with angry, pointed movements that if Alfred expected a goddamned answer how the hell was Arthur supposed to answer without his tablet? Alfred huffed and shook his head, stepping close again, into Arthur's space; this time, Arthur didn't shrink back from the taller man. "No, you just listen you stubborn, old man! You can't just go out on your own in some city you only know anything about from your stupid maps! We've been traveling together for years and we never, _never_, go out by ourselves! And you…you can't even say anything, how do you think you would've asked for help if you'd gotten lost or if some street gang thought they'd rob you?"

_I'm not helpless!_ Arthur didn't care that Alfred couldn't read lips, couldn't understand what he screamed back with his silent voice…he was angry and sick of being thought of as useless because of what happened with Ivan in the Nords. _You don't need a voice to defend yourself, you moronic child!_

"And have you forgotten that Braginski is fucking looking for you?" Alfred plowed ahead, not even minding that Arthur was yelling back soundless words of his own. Arthur grit his teeth and felt his face heat up in frustration, clenching his fists at his sides as Alfred flung back words in Arthur's face that he already knew. A part of him knew Alfred was right, that even though he could defend himself and look after himself, he was suffering at a severe handicap because of his silence…but that wasn't the point. The point was that he was sick of having to rely on everyone else because what Ivan had stolen affected him so much. No one watched Gilbert like a hawk, or hovered over Francis…hell, Feliciano had more freedom than Arthur did lately. It was suffocating him and he…he had just wanted to do something one his own for once.

"What would you have done if he showed up and you were alone, Arthur? He would have—you would've been gone and I—I…"

As quickly as the anger had swept through Arthur, it was replaced by something else as Alfred's voice chocked off, unable to finish what he wanted to tell Arthur, what he wanted to yell at him until he understood, what he was really angry about. Alfred's hands wrapped around Arthur's arms and he rested his forehead against the shorter man's shoulder and Arthur could feel the young man's shaking against him. Arthur stood still as a very blatant realization ripped through him, leaving him feeling foolish and hopelessly, deliriously relieved all at the same time. Alfred had been terrified Arthur would be taken, taken away from _him_, taken away and leaving Alfred unable to handle with what that meant to him. Because he…it all seemed so obvious now.

Arthur reached up and tilted Alfred's face away from his shoulder, not bothering to try and remove the hands holding him against the wall, holding him still and where Alfred could be sure he was still there. Arthur tilted Alfred's face until he could meet the stormy eyes with his own, wishing that he'd looked a bit closer over these past few weeks, wishing he hadn't allowed himself and his own confusion over whatever happened between them in the Crow's nest clouded what was so blindingly clear now. Oh well, no hope for it he supposed…and with that thought, Arthur did the one thing he could think of, the only thing he wanted to do to try and convey all his anger, all his reassurances, and his apology for worrying Alfred.

He brought Alfred's face down, tilted his own upward and to the side and pressed their lips together.

TBC…

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Hmm…I'm apparently a very naughty tease. That's twice in a span of three chapters I've left you dangling for more. Well, I can promise you that next chapter I will stop my teasing ways, so look forward to that!

*Palermo =Dove in Spanish

** Mi hermoso = my beautiful one, roughly


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Of Silence and Thievery (8/?)  
Genre: humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Notice how the projected length of this thing keeps getting longer...damn it. This is kind of an experiment. I've had this idea in my head for awhile and figured I'd give it a shot, and if it turned out all right, work on this as an original work. Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

Note 2: Oh, remember that 'M' rating everyone? The one listed above you *looks* Yes, well, this chapter will live up to that rating ^_~. Happy readings!

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_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_**Chapter Eight: Where Arthur and Alfred Finally Get a Clue (And Ivan Plots)**_

_"Grow_."

Ivan stared at the sunflowers before him as they remained unmoved by his demand, the petals on the biggest drooping and showing sickness, the stalks on some brown and crinkling. He frowned and tried again, testing out different variations with the Voice he had stolen, putting emphasis on certain syllables, trying the demand in other words, but nothing happened. The sunflowers remained unhealthy and dying, refusing to grow and obey his attempts at helping them, making a small, disappointed noise as they remained stubbornly wilting and dull. This was starting to frustrate him, he knew, and he had to remind himself it wasn't any of his family's fault that the gift would not work for him. It wouldn't do to worry them needlessly.

He was beginning to get perturbed by how little he was achieving with the Britannia man's voice; after all, he'd stolen his voice and gift months ago and had plenty of time to practice, knowing much more of what the gift was capable of than its original owner, having more experience with the arcane to learn how to adapt. However, for all his knowledge and experience, the gift would not work for him beyond the simplest commands of small, inanimate objects. Nothing more than moving it for all intents and purposes…certainly not what Kirkland still seemed able to accomplish, even sans a physical voice. His latest attempts with the sunflowers were proof enough that even though Ivan had taken the man's voice, his power still resided within him…as a part of him rather than a part of his voice.

He stepped back from the table in his study and looked at the sunflowers analytically for another few moments, examining if any part of them showed any sort of progress, before he sighed and stepped away. Nothing…nothing again. How maddening; no matter how often he practiced or tried to do even simple tasks, Ivan could do little more in terms of commands and influence than he could prior to stealing Arthur Kirkland's voice. He had not expected that…he had expected that he would no longer be met with opposition and that he would get what he needed much easier. He had expected to take Kirkland's power and be able to use it…however, it seemed that the man's power was similar to his Toris'…too deeply ingrained to be taken away lightly.

He'd have to improvise for Arthur Kirkland…but that wasn't his primary concern. No, his primary concern was learning why his efforts to gain mastery over the Voice were not working and how to remedy the situation until he could bring Kirkland here. He frowned again at the thought, not pleased that he was going to have to wait to do so…but he was being too heavily guarded after their meeting in the Nords. Ivan was certainly not a man to be trifled with, but even with all his acquired gifts, he was not a match for a ship full of hardened warriors by himself. And not to mention Alfred, who seemed to connect with his strength better whenever Kirkland was involved…Ivan did not care for thinking about that.

He sighed resignedly and pushed the dying flowers into a garbage pail, blinking down at them sadly before he turned and walked from his study. That was enough failure for today, enough to frustrate him but not enough to do more than that…it was best for his family if he kept it that way. He looked around him as he strolled down his halls smiling and greeting some of his family has he passed, happy they greeted him back with such enthusiasm but unhappy knowing that every failure he had regarding the Voice, the more relieved they were. Did they not understand that he would never use the gift on them, not unless he had to? That it would make everything they were working for so much easier to accomplish? They were young though…it was understandable they'd have doubts.

That's why they needed him.

He heard small, quiet footsteps behind him, his hearing that of the hunter who now sailed with Alfred, and grinned as he turned around, staring into Natalia's hard, blue eyes, wishing she didn't try and sneak up on him. Of all his family, she was by far the most devoted to him…it was a shame she was also the most unstable. Natalia stared at him with her usual, fanatically adoring expression and stepped closer to him, her fingers brushing against the sleeve of his great coat.

"Natalia, you know to not be following me, _da_? You have other tasks to attend to."

"But I—I needed to see you, Brother, needed to before I left!" She latched onto his other sleeve and Ivan smiled gently has he gently pried her off, his greater strength more than enough to counter the minimally above-average strength her diamond-like skin granted her. "Why do you send me away, have I not proven myself to you?"

"You have, and that is why I need you to go where I cannot, because I can trust you, my Natalia. You will always make me proud." He stepped away, beginning his journey once more, and held back a sigh of annoyance when he heard her come after him still. She was certainly relentless, a trait he admired on most occasions…when it wasn't being directed towards him.

"But who does that leave you here with, dear Brother? With those who do not _believe_ in you the way they should! Those like that traitorous healer who—"

"That is enough." Ivan turned toward Natalia and placed a warning grip on her shoulder, his smile pleasant but cautionary as he held her in place, diamond-hard skin and all, squeezing enough to even make her wince. "They are my family, Natalia, like you. Remember that. Now, off you go, you mustn't be late to your own party, _da_?"

Natalia stared at him for a moment after his rebuke, not moving right away after he let go of her. She turned and stomped away after a small nod of obedience; Ivan was concerned for her…he appreciated that his family obey and be grateful towards him but Natalia's attraction was beyond what he could accept. He truly hoped it would not become worse of a problem…it be such a shame to see her go. He clicked his tongue in regret and continued on towards his original destination, humming a simple tune under his breath as he passed; he had healed sufficiently from his encounter within the Nords and needed to see where he should next head out. He'd have to be sure to avoid Alfred and his crew for a time…it wasn't time for them yet and he'd have to be patient. He'd worked too hard over the years to let a simple misstep ruin him now.

He knocked once on the door to the old library before entering, smiling at the three sitting inside as he entered, lingering his gaze on the slight healer…Toris, who was so much like Kirkland in some regards. Perhaps they needed to have another discussion soon…yes, yes that seemed a fair idea. But now, now he needed Eduard. He waved his hand dismissively at both Toris and the boy, Raivis, stating silently that they had no need to be in the room and to leave; Toris wasted no time in wrapping the shaking, nervous little boy in his arms and herding him out, leaving only the bespectacled Eduard. Eduard was always interesting to talk to…he never appeared afraid of Ivan for one thing, and his power made him truly unique, a wonderful combination.

"You have need of me, Brother Ivan?"

Ivan smiled and stepped closer, nodding his head gently as he placed a hand on Eduard's shoulder, with much less pressure than he had with Natalia earlier. "I need to see where Alfred is…it is much too soon to confront him and I want to make sure we keep your search for other talents a distance from him."

Eduard remained expressionless and nodded softly, dipping his head forward and closing his eyes; Ivan could feel the shift in his mind as it threw itself forward and into the world, zeroing in on Alfred and his location. Ivan could see as well…one of the useful combinations of using the stolen navigation sight from the sea captain and Alfred's twin's empathy he'd discovered through his experimentation, and he flew through the world with Eduard until they came to a stop at an inn in Germania. An inn that Ivan recognized well; and inside the inn, in an upstairs room, Ivan discovered where Alfred was…pressing a smaller man Ivan recognized as Arthur Kirkland into a wall, pressing his lips to the other's. He stared for a moment before he let go of Eduard, pulling himself away back to his stronghold and away from the sight of pale hands gripping the sun-kissed skin at the back of Alfred's neck.

That was…unexpected. Alfred had been, he hadn't even…usually, Alfred knew instinctively when Ivan was peeking at his whereabouts and would always look about in that confused manner of his. Not this time thought, no…he'd been entirely wrapped up with Kirkland and hadn't even so much as _glanced_ away from the unfortunately eyebrow-ed man. Ivan frowned deeply the more he thought about it…he did not like it at all. He had noticed something different back in the Nords, something different in how Alfred acted with Arthur Kirkland than he had with anyone else…he should have stomped it out while he was there. Should have made sure Kirkland went with him…his eyes darkened and he clenched his fists into tight balls at his sides; when Eduard blinked back, he inhaled sharply and took a step back, reminding Ivan that he needed to be careful. Still, knowing and doing were entirely different things so, at the benefit of his Eduard, he turned around and left, muttering softly that was all for the time being.

Unacceptable. What he had seen…it was unacceptable. He wanted, needed, Alfred's attention on him, on finding him, on only him…how was that supposed to happen when that voiceless cretin was forcing himself where he didn't belong? He _needed_ Alfred to find him, to come willingly and exhausted…it was the only way…he took a deep breath and closed his eyes outside of the library, steadying himself against the odd rush of emotion. He didn't need to give the wrong impression to his family, no that wouldn't do; he was their strong, unbeatable Brother Ivan. A setback—that's all this little tryst was, and now that he knew of it, he could take steps to correct it.

But even as he told himself the words, making his way back to his own quarters, Ivan could feel the hollow lie that echoed with them, not liking how much less it made him feel…how much less Arthur Kirkland made him feel. Here Ivan had terrorized him, stolen his voice, been the catalyst for the man's need to leave his homeland…and yet he was still beating Ivan where it mattered and he didn't even know it. He, somehow, kept Ivan from using his gift to its full extent, was still able to draw on his gift, and now _this_—Ivan could not remember a time when one person had frustrated him so completely.

Perhaps it was time to rethink his original strategy. The longer he left Kirkland alone, the more he seemed to muck up Ivan's plans, but he still was unable to reach him at the present (he'd felt what Eduard had not…that man was surrounded by Faerie aura, which presented another set of problems). And, if he took him at this juncture, he was sure Alfred would follow but…Ivan frowned and shut himself in his study, waving off Oksana's worried face as he entered, not in the mood for her mothering at the moment; she meant well, but Ivan was still to upset…it was for the best if he was left alone. He needed to think.

Kirkland presented a new problem that Ivan had not considered but…he could solve this easily; matters of the heart and body were fickle and easy to tear down in their beginnings, he just needed to think of what would be most effective. What would drag Alfred's focus back to Ivan and his hunt…what…who. Who. Ivan smiled softly as the thought came to him, something he had considered once but had never acted upon…perhaps now was the time to do so. He rose and summoned Toris to walk with him, summoning him through the walls of his stronghold; he'd need the man's healing abilities should Ivan have to get persuasive. Toris came as summoned, his face going pale as Ivan told him where they were going and why; Ivan reached out and stroked the pale cheek…Toris always looked so lovely with that expression on his face. He made several quick preparations, made sure his wards were reinforced around the stronghold so none of his less-than-faithful family members could wander off, and left Oksana in charge, and with Toris, left for Merica.

He knew exactly what to do to make sure Alfred stayed focused on him; Ivan laughed softly as he departed.

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Alfred was motionless for a somewhat discerning amount of time, which prompted Arthur to pull back, biting his lip and wondering for one awful minute if he had completely misjudged and now had bollixed everything up. He wondered if he'd be able to say he was just trying to get Alfred to shut the hell up; that was all, and certainly didn't mean anything by kissing him. He supposed he'd need his tablet for that, as it's be hard to try and convey all that through hand gestures (especially when Alfred was so awful at interpreting them anyway), but Alfred was just staring at him, still gripping his arms, so he settled for shrugging slightly and looking away. He really hoped he didn't get punched in the face or anything…he took a deep breath when he finally felt Alfred move, one of his hands reaching up to turn his face forwards once more.

But, Alfred didn't punch him or yell at him or anything else unpleasant…no, instead he breathed out a shaky sounding breath and leaned in, mirroring Arthur's earlier actions and pressing their lips together for a second time. Alfred was somewhat clumsy and didn't really do much beyond pushing their lips together, but Arthur still felt something warm flow through his skin at his efforts, kissing the taller boy back slow and steady. He reached up with his now free arms (Alfred had found his hair and neck much more interesting to hold onto as opposed to his arms), wrapping one around Alfred's shoulders and gripping the back his neck and resting the other against Alfred's clavicle, guiding the young man, showing him how to respond.

It was a little odd to Arthur to think that Alfred was only a few years younger than himself and so inexperienced, considering how insufferably attractive he was, but it certainly wasn't anything to complain about. In fact, Arthur had to admit that a good part of the ever increasing warmth thrumming through him had to do with the fact that Alfred was so naïve…it certainly made up for Arthur's rather colorful track record (he'd gone through a rebellious stage as a teenager*…it had involved a fair amount of drinking and sex and Arthur wasn't exactly proud of it, but at least it left him confident enough in what he was currently doing). Little by little, Alfred moves grew bolder, brushing the hand at Arthur's neck down the line of his torso, griping his hip, crowding in closer and pressing Arthur further back against the wall, his inhalations of air between kisses growing faster; Arthur responded in kind, and he was relieved that the young man was a quick learner…this could have all turned terribly awkward and Arthur was far too warm for that to turn out well.

Warmth turned to heat very quickly, the pressing of the lips, the movements of their hands, all growing more and more frantic, more unsteady as an instinctual need overtook them both. Arthur's silent pants and gasps breathed across Alfred's neck as the younger man slipped a too warm hand under Arthur's tunic shyly, experimentally, as if testing if it was all right to do so; Arthur tore their lips apart and rested his face in the crook of the blond boy's neck. Arthur's experienced hands slipped under Alfred's tunic in answer, lifting it up and prompting the young man to lift his arms; Arthur tossed the tunic to the side and kissed Alfred again, this time with much more force and a lot faster. Arthur slipped his tongue inside the young man's mouth, stroking and drew the other's tongue back with him into his own mouth. This took a few more tries, as Alfred clearly had not done this often (if at all, but Arthur certainly wasn't going to embarrass the boy by pointing it out), but eventually they both settled into a rhythm, letting their attention focus on each other once more.

Arthur felt his tunic tugged over his head and he was sure he was tugging at the lacings of Alfred's trousers, but all he could really focus on was how good it felt to have all that golden skin heated and pressing up against his own bare flesh, driving all logic and doubts from his head. Alfred's hands were rough and calloused against his skin, but everywhere they touched, his skin seemed to ignite…he had never been with anyone who made him feel quite as delirious as Alfred was making him feel right now, clumsiness, uncertainty and all. It was actually a bit frightening, but he didn't allow that thought to grow because Alfred chose at that moment to wedge his knee between Arthur's legs, pressing against his arousal and bring them even closer together. Arthur tilted his head back and swore silently, his grip tightening on the back of Alfred's neck and in his hair, bring a leg up to wrap around one of Alfred's (left or right was no longer that important to him…a leg was a leg and it pressed them impossibly close together).

Even though Arthur was quickly losing his coherency, he managed to admire the strong column of Alfred's neck, leaning upwards and pressing heated kisses against the skin he found, smirking internally when he heard Alfred let out a strangled moan and grip both his hips tighter (Arthur had also given up trying to keep track of where Alfred's hands were at all times…they were focused on his hips for the moment, but they had been moving all over him for the past ten minutes or so). He wasn't sure if he took the step forward or if Alfred had took the step back, but they were moving away from the wall and the next thing Arthur knew, he was looking down at a disheveled and panting Alfred from his perch on the younger man's hips. With his hair sticking up every which way (from Arthur's tugging no doubt), heated skin, and swollen lips, Arthur was quite sure he'd never seen anything quite so tempting, wondering belatedly why on earth a man that looked like this would even bother with him. That, and wondering why they were both still wearing pants…that seemed the better thing to focus on.

"Arthur." Alfred's voice was low and gravelly, and Arthur felt a shiver of longing run through him as the lidded, dark eyes pinned him, one of the calloused hands running up his thigh before moving to rest at the small of his back. "Are we—I mean, have you done this before?"

Arthur arched his eyebrows at Alfred, who chuckled softly at the stupidity of his own question, but Arthur could hear the anxiousness and insecurity in the young man's voice; he nodded, one of his hands reaching to grab Alfred's, locking their fingers together. It was terribly intimate and Arthur wondered for a moment if it was entirely appropriate, but when Alfred squeezed back his hand, his eyes a little less anxious, he knew he'd done the right thing.

"So, uh, how do you…I mean, how do we do this?" Alfred blinked up at Arthur from behind his glasses, honest uncertainty on his face…oh Gods, it was hard to control himself when Alfred looked at him like that. "I mean, I _know_ what to do and whatever but…do you uh…or me?"

Arthur knew what Alfred was trying to ask, and while the thought of Alfred bottoming was certainly appealing, he knew it'd be best for Alfred's first experience with sex with another man (there was NO way Arthur was wrong about that) was to be on top. He knew what to expect and once Alfred had more confidence, bottoming would be much easier on him. He shook his head and tugged Alfred into a sitting position, leaning back on his hips before he leaned onto his back, tugging Alfred above him and between his raised knees, silently letting Alfred know his answer, what he wanted. Alfred's eyes widened in surprise before darkening once more, his hands reaching up to grip Arthur's hip again.

"You sure?"

Arthur glared and nodded. Had he not been obvious enough?

"Ok, ok…do you, wait why the hell am I asking you? Hold on a sec, ok?"

Arthur watched Alfred hop off him and the bed, dashing into the small washroom and heard him rummage around, letting out a soft curse when something clattered and must have hit him. Arthur took the opportunity to take off his boots, pants, and underclothes, focusing on the desire and longing thrumming through him, not giving any thought to the little nagging doubts beginning to worm their way into his head. Alfred hurried back in, letting out a soft noise at the sight of Arthur laying there, naked, against the bed; Arthur raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes, flicking his head forward, indicating that Alfred would have plenty of time to stare later. Alfred took the hint and crawled back above Arthur, settling between his legs, taking a moment to take off his glasses and set them on the bedside cabinet. Then he was back, holding up a bottle of smoothing cream. Arthur looked at it and up at Alfred, giving the younger, blushing man an amused look.

"Gilbert…he's been leaving this stuff around for, uh, I guess for us…it's supposed to help, right?"

Arthur was not amused hearing that Gilbert had been planting things like _that_ around his room (more because it was rather embarrassing to think that Gilbert, and likely the rest of the crew, had been thinking about he and Alfred doing _this_), but having the cream was certainly a plus. He sat up and helped Alfred out of the remaining bits of clothing, taking the cream, distributing some to his hand and motioning for Alfred's, squeezing some out for him. Arthur rubbed his hands together and slicked up Alfred before he guided Alfred's fingers down, positioning them at his entrance. Arthur jolted and scowled when Alfred tried to press two in at once, glaring and holding up one finger; Alfred grinned sheepishly and mumbled an apology before obeying Arthur's silent instructions.

Arthur had not expected the beginning to feel all that good, no matter how aroused he was, considering how long it'd been since he'd bottomed with someone and considering Alfred's inexperience, and to an extent, he was correct. There had been a burn and the distinct feeling of discomfort from trying to fit something large in something small (Alfred also was rather well-endowed…which Arthur had found a bit funny because there was not ONE spot of Alfred that was imperfect)…but he'd felt a genuine pleasure at Alfred's obvious enthusiasm. Enough that it had not been nearly as bad as he had expected, and what had been bad swiftly morphed into euphoric as Alfred adjusted his thrusts instinctively, sliding over Arthur's prostate and making those quintessential stars appear. Alfred bent forward and pressed his lips to Arthur's, pressing each moan, each gasp, and each exhalation into Arthur's skin, scorching him in a way he'd never felt before.

It had been quick (again, Arthur had expected this), but wrapped up in the afterglow, his breaths heavy and silent, mixing with Alfred's, feeling the ache of having Alfred leave his body, and brought in close to rest against Alfred's chest he had a hard time remembering anything better. Alfred rolled over so he was lying on his back, tugging Arthur with him to rest across the younger man's chest , one hand reached up to comb back Arthur's sweaty hair from his face lackadaisically. Arthur glanced up tiredly and smiled gently at the look on Alfred's face, like all his dreams had come true and he couldn't be happier; Arthur ducked his face back down when he felt his face heat up unbearably, the feeling in his chest that he had ignored for the past few weeks, making itself known and fitting itself snuggly in Arthur's heart. Gods, that just sounded pathetic…poetic but pathetic; Arthur really needed to stop thinking so dramatically.

"That…that was awesome." Arthur looked back up, red face be damned, and shot Alfred an incredulous look. Awesome? Really? Could the boy not think of a better word…though it had been quite good…Arthur rolled his eyes and got to his feet shakily. Alfred made a noise of denial, but Arthur kept going, kind of liking the dull ache he felt lick up his spine, grabbing his tablet out of his satchel by the door. He walked back to the bed and flopped back down tiredly, scrawling his response before settling back down.

**Bloody fantastic, you mean. It was certainly better than 'awesome.'**

Alfred laughed out loud, bringing another small smile to Arthur's lips; he protested silently when Alfred reached up and grabbed his tablet, setting it beside his glasses on the bedside table. Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur's shoulder, tugging him back down and tucking his head underneath his chin; Arthur felt a comforting type of sleepiness overcome him when Alfred's fingers tickled his hair, wrapping his own fingers around Alfred' unoccupied ones.

"You're all right, right?"

Arthur nodded, patting Alfred on the shoulder, blinking up at him tiredly before closing his eyes once more.

"And we'll definitely be doing this again, right? Because we totally need to do this again!"

Arthur sighed silently and nodded again, laughing soundlessly at the fist pump he could feel Alfred making before the hand went back to his hair; he really was such a child sometimes. Though, Arthur supposed that just added to his overall charm…and was just another reason why Arthur supposed he was in love with the idiot. He fell asleep to the sound of Alfred's breathing and the feel of his fingers in Arthur's hair, hoping that maybe Alfred was doing the same.

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Alfred lay awake for awhile longer, a million thoughts and things flying through his head like streamers in a parade, tightening his hold on Arthur's soundless, sleeping body, praying thanks to every god he knew of that this had actually happened and wasn't a dream. He'd already pinched himself a few times just to be sure and yes, it was all truth that he and Arthur had just had sex, and now Alfred was holding him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. Alfred smiled softly at the thought…maybe, Arthur really was to Alfred and he'd just hadn't wanted to think about in case Arthur didn't feel the same. But he did (you couldn't kiss someone like that and NOT feel the same, Alfred was positive of it) and now here they were, Alfred feeling ten times happier than he could remember feeling since the whole business with Ivan started.

Ivan…that's right…that bastard was still out there, hiding somewhere, just waiting for Alfred to slip up. Alfred knew he'd do anything to get Arthur because Arthur, for some reason, could still use his gift every now and then. Alfred glanced down at the slender blond in his arms, and he felt his heart start to beat faster at the thought of Arthur being taken away from him. He would not let Ivan take him, no matter what…and though Arthur would probably smack him if he knew Alfred was thinking of doing anything to protect him, Alfred knew that the man needed his help.

Alfred frowned as he remembered what had started this whole, completely awesome evening of theirs…Arthur leaving without anyone to go to the Market, not one thought to how he'd handle himself if something terrible were too happen…and while Alfred still felt some anger over it, mostly he just felt relieved that Arthur was fine and that the whole incident had led to where they were right now. Arthur had been just as angry as Alfred had been, he remembered Arthur screaming back silently at him while he had yelled, but Alfred was no good at lip-reading so he had no idea what Arthur had been saying. He guessed he could ask him when he woke up, ask him that and why he had gone back to the Market earlier that day in the first place.

Alfred groaned as he remembered the whole crew that was still staying in the inn…who'd all seen Alfred practically drag Arthur up the stairs in a rage…better let them know he hadn't killed anyone. He, very carefully, scooted himself out from under Arthur and rose from the bed, hurriedly throwing on his discarded pants and tunic, slipping on his glasses and combing back his messy hair. He smiled at the sight of Arthur rolling over into his vacated space, wrapping his pale arms around the pillow Alfred had been resting on, one bare leg poking out from beneath the sheet , the older man's entire back exposed. Alfred knew that Arthur probably didn't think it, what with how hunched himself over all the time and never took Francis' flirting as anything but something the Gaul man did to annoy him (though Francis was technically blind so Alfred wasn't sure how much of Arthur Francis could even see anyway…whatever), but Alfred couldn't help but think how beautiful the slim man was.

Well, maybe beautiful was a bit much, that's what you called girls…handsome, there, that was a good one. Handsomely beautiful…that was even better! Alfred smiled at his own description before he quietly left the room, shutting the door for Arthur's privacy, whistling as he practically skipped down the stairs. The inn was busy, but most of the crew had had entirely too much fun the night before, so Alfred only spotted a few all seated around a table near the bar. Gilbert and Francis were playing some sort of card game with Antonio, Francis using little Lily as his eyes, while Vash sat with Seychelles and were going over some sort of supply list. Kiku was up at the bar with Ludwig and Feliciano, talking quietly with a sputtering Romano; Alejandro, Maria, and Esther must've all gone back to the ship, Alfred guessed…or went to another bar, one of those.

Seychelles spotted him first, her dark eyes piercing him as he walked closer, her mouth settling into a self-satisfied smirk. "Pay up, boys, I win."

"What? You've got to be kidding me!" Antonio whipped around with Gilbert, the latter looking somewhat shocked that he had lost to Seychelles over something (though Alfred had dark feeling he knew what), the former looking despairingly at the small pile of chips he had before him. "Oh fine, you demoness, take it. See if I bet you again!"

"Well, well, Hero. You look awfully happy…have a good, ah, 'discussion' with Eyebrows upstairs?" Gilbert leered at him, cackling when Alfred fe;t his face redden, tossing a chip towards Seychelles who took it happily.

"Ah, is it true? Has our dear Alfred finally become a man?" Francis rose from his seat and raised his glass of wine high, a joyful look spreading over his face. "Ah, _merci_, I thought this day would never come!"

"Ha, ha, very funny guys," Alfred mumbled, watching as even Vash handed over some coins to Seychelles, shrugging unapologetically as Alfred looked accusingly at him. Lily smiled and clapped her withered hands, looking up at Alfred with happiness in her youthful eyes. "I just wanted to tell you that everything is cool between me and Iggy now, so…no need to worry."

"And by 'cool' do you mean he is now your paramour?" Seychelles ginned wickedly over at him before she clapped her hands in delight at the second blush that colored Alfred's cheeks. "Well, good to know…you can both stop all this ridiculous mooning over one another. I was tempted to just lock you both in the brig until you shagged and were done with it…this one wouldn't let me."

Vash glared right back at Seychelles accusing look. "Alfred is still the leader of this voyage, it's not like we could have navigated as well without Kirkland either. And it's unsanitary down there."

"Well, we're happy for you, Al, it was about time." Gilbert laughed once more before he got up and waved him off. "Now, I think it's time to drown our sorrows boys at being beat by our lovely captain. Ludwig, we need more beer!"

Alfred looked once at him then back at the table. "What did you guys even bet?"

"Well, when you tugged Kirkland upstairs after you, I said you were either going to kill him or, you know, with him," Vash replied. He glanced once at his little sister, but she was too busy laughing at the card tricks Francis was showing her. "Then Seychelles said you were, you know, and we all said you were too angry…but apparently not angry enough."

"I just know how to read men, that's all…I have been captaining them for close to six years now…and with that, I think _you_ should head back upstairs before a certain someone wakes up. I know you're young, Alfred, but if there's one no one likes, it waking up to an empty bed after your moment of passion. So scat, back up you go…we'll be just fine down here…and I'll be sure to not let any of these scoundrels say anything to Arthur either."

"Like I would! I made a joke, a passing comment about his voice last night and practically skewered me with his eyes!" Antonio bemoaned, defending himself against being called a scoundrel.

Alfred grinned shyly before he took off back upstairs; not watching for the fond looks his crew sent him as he disappeared. After all, he was in love, he certainly had ore important things to pay attention to at the moment.

TBC…

**USUKUSUKUSUKUSUKUSUK**

Shorter chapter in comparison to the previous, but I hope you were all pleased. And didn't I tell you I'd stop my teasing ways? I will be on vacation the next few days so I may not be able to respond to you until I get back, just wanted to forewarn you, not ignoring you!

* I am, of course, referring to England's pirating days ^_^


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Of Silence and Thievery (9/?)  
Genre: humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Notice how the projected length of this thing keeps getting longer...damn it. This is kind of an experiment. I've had this idea in my head for awhile and figured I'd give it a shot, and if it turned out all right, work on this as an original work. Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_**Chapter Nine: Where Arthur Finally Figures Out the Pendant (with Alfred's Help)**_

When Arthur awoke he was aware of three separate things: one, he did not have a headache and did not feel as if his stomach was going to rebel against him, two, he was not in his own bed yet again and three, he was being spooned by a very warm, very comforting body, soft snores tickling the back of his neck. He blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the soft sunlight filtering into the room, somewhat surprised that he had slept for such a long period of time and he fidgeted in the warm cocoon of Alfred's bare arms. Arthur peeked under the sheet, noting that he was without clothes but Alfred had on a pair of trousers (though they were unbuttoned), before he sighed and rested his head back on the pillow, staring unseeing ahead as his mind finally caught up with him.

They'd had sex, him and Alfred…Arthur had actually _initiated_ it (which he was still marveling over a little since he'd had little interest in sex in the past few years…William had actually called him a picky blighter during a drunken fight) and though it had been a bit clumsy it had also been bloody brilliant. And Alfred, Alfred wanted to do it again (as was expected) …which implied that he was every bit eager in changing the dynamics of their previous relationship. And Arthur felt a rare kind of happiness at the thought—which of course made him doubt the entire fiasco because, honestly, what the hell was he doing? Was he really going to try and start anything of _this_ nature while on a mission that very well could end up with him being either captured for all eternity or killed? With a young man who was little more than a boy at that? None of _this_ made any sense!

Well, the sex bit did…no, Arthur berated himself, frowning and trying to focus on all the doubts and common sense he SHOULD be focusing on. He was not travelling with Alfred and his band because he needed a 'relationship' of any sort, he was travelling with him because he needed his bloody voice back and this was the easiest way to go about it. That was what he should be focusing on, not some silly, pointless tryst that likely wouldn't go anywhere once this entire mess was concluded. Alfred would return home, back to his brother and the home town that loved him (according to him) and Arthur…well, actually now that Arthur thought about it, he wasn't really sure where he was supposed to go should he get his voice back.

Rumors of what had happened in Berth had likely spread all over Britannia by now, from the sprawling cities to the small farming hamlets…rumors of Arthur Kirkland, a cursed bookkeeper who had flattened an entire mob on its arse with a soundless scream. He would never be able to return home; even if he moved to a different side of the nation with a whole different group of people and adopted an alias—it would never work. The thought, while not a new one, suddenly crept to the forefront of his mind and stuck, refusing to be moved aside as it often had in the past. Arthur felt a new swell of worry crop up.

What the hell was he going to do should he get his voice back, and more importantly, what would he do if he didn't? Could he honestly spend the rest of his days traversing across the world on a wild goose chase with Alfred? Could he afford not too should Ivan try and 'collect' him if he left the relative safety travelling with Alfred and his crew? He sighed shakily, even though no one could hear it, and closed his eyes…it was really much too early to be having this sort of existential crisis. He felt slightly annoyed at himself when Alfred's arms tightened around him and made him feel marginally better.

Alfred shifted around a little bit more before Arthur heard a very loud, very distinctive yawn, signaling that Alfred was up, the young man's arms tightening around him as if Arthur was some sort of plush toy. Arthur felt Alfred's lips press a smile into the base of his neck and he felt a thrill of warmth spread from the spot where the lips touched to the tips of his toes. Oh gods, he was really getting ridiculous…

"Morning!" Alfred murmured the greeting happily into his neck, his voice rough from sleep but unimaginable cheerful and pleased with itself (seeing as Arthur was still naked, he could easily imagine why). "You sleep good?"

Arthur nodded and fidgeted in Alfred's hold, throwing a scowl over his shoulder at the younger man when Alfred refused to let go and let him move. Alfred smiled back at him in victory, which prompted Arthur to elbow the smiling git in the stomach; Alfred half groaned and half chuckled before he loosened his hold on Arthur enough for the other man to turn over and face the younger man, who was smiling so brightly and widely one would think he was trying to be an actual ray of bloody sunshine. Arthur should have just got up and grabbed his pants…it was very easy to give into the warmth between them when he was looking at Alfred and the younger man's hands were playing in his hair. He really, _really_ shouldn't be starting this…it would be so much harder to stop this, to cut away from these feelings if he kept at it now.

Alfred leaned forward and pressed a soft, undemanding kiss to Arthur's lips before he wriggled down and, for lack of a better term, _snuggled_ his face into Arthur's neck, his arms wrapping back around the slim, older man. Arthur scowled again and swore soundlessly at himself; how the bloody hell was he supposed to convince himself to stop all this when Alfred went and did things like that? Alfred's soft exhalations were teasing across the sensitive skin of his neck and with a sigh of defeat (because it was looking more and more likely he was damned and there was nothing he could do about it), he reached up and smoothed Alfred's golden hair in time with his breathing.

All right, he'd try this 'relationship' with Alfred and see where it went…he did lo—CARE for the blasted boy after all. But it would NOT get in the way of him getting his voice back. Satisfied with this internal agreement with himself, Arthur pushed away all the doubts and worries plaguing him and focused back on Alfred. The tall, young man stretched out and tangled his trouser-ed legs around Arthur's bare ones, which brought a question to mind…why on earth was Alfred wearing pants?

He tapped Alfred's shoulder, poking him hard when the idiot ignored his more polite gestures, arching his eyebrow at Alfred and picking at his trousers. Alfred looked down, confused, before the proverbial light of understanding clicked in his head and he smiled, settling himself half on Arthur, half off, his chin resting on the small man's sternum, blue eyes twinkling in an adorable manner. "Oh, I had to tell the guys that everything was fine between us…didn't want them to think I killed you or anythin'."

The guys, meaning the crew, had been informed, and if Gilbert, the bastard, had been present, then they all, ALL knew that Alfred and he had slept together. Wonderful. He frowned and gave Alfred a disapproving look (which Alfred foolishly squawked at, as if he didn't deserve it, the idiot), before trying to push him off and back onto his own side of the bed. Alfred, however, was a bit broader and heavier than Arthur and used that to his advantage to resist Arthur's effort.

"Hey, hey! I had to tell them something! They all saw how angry I was and I didn't want them worrying or thinking stuff when it wasn't true! Which reminds me, you never told me WHY you went off to Market on your own when you know how dangerous it is!" Alfred blinked up at him, his hands grabbing Arthur's wrists and halting them against his chest, expression not one of anger but more one of curiosity and determination. Arthur sighed and blew a strand of wayward hair out of his face, pointing with restrained fingers to the tablet on the bedside table, an expectant and suffering look on his own face.

Alfred glanced and swore at himself, clambering off Arthur to grab the tablet, sitting back beside Arthur and handing it to the older man; Arthur eased himself up, mindful to keep the sheet covering his more important bits should the door not be locked (and anyone who had a death wish entered). Alfred reached over and handed him the orange quill as well, an expectant look of his own entering his eyes before he sighed loudly and scooted closer. "Come on, old man, you gotta tell now. Why did you go back to market knowing Ivan's out there, waiting to kidnap you?"

Arthur glared and wrote down his response angrily, some of the feelings he had felt the previous cropping back up in the wake of Alfred's question and tone; as great as the previous night had been it still didn't change the frustrations Arthur was feeling about being treated as some helpless child. **Because you're a dense, daft fool who wouldn't listen to me!**

Alfred cocked his head to the side and frowned. "What are you talking about? I listen to you…or read you, well sort of, I mean, you know what I mean!"

**Then what about the fairies?**

"Oh come on, Iggy! That's what you're angry about? I was only teasing a little and—"

**They were real, you git, and I went back to talk to Yao**. Arthur shoved the tablet I Alfred's face, effectively interrupting his sentence (Arthur was quite proud of himself, in doing this without a voice).

"Yao? Why would you—what are you doing?" Arthur slashed his hand down in a frustrated manner before he scooted to the edge of the bed (both to conserve his modesty and not let on to Alfred that he was a wee bit sorer this morning then he'd been last night…the boy'd just smother him to death). He reached with his toes and grabbed his discarded pants, dragging them over and picking them up with his free hand; he grabbed the smooth, Faerie pendant and tossed the pants down, scooting back and shoving the pendant in Alfred's face.

**Because I made a deal with them and they gave me this!**

Alfred stared at the pendant in his hand before he looked back up at Arthur, an odd expression on his face; for a moment, Arthur felt a vindicated sense of enjoyment that Alfred was floundering when faced with proof that Arthur had talked to fairies. Then, however, Alfred glared at him in an angry, exasperated manner (which was quite shocking to Arthur…he hadn't known Alfred could even be exasperated at anything the way he carried on all the time), dropping the pendant into the empty space between them. "You, you made a _deal_ in Market? Son of a—Arthur, the Market people aren't exactly the most upstanding people around! And while fairies are hard to swallow, crazy Fey creatures aren't! They love the Market and they love to make stupid deals with unsuspecting travelers who don't know any better!"

Arthur glared and scribbled angrily before he reached down and snatched the pendant back, clutching it tightly in his hand. **So fairies are obviously make-believe but 'Fey' creatures aren't? What a crock of shit!**

"Arthur, those things make deals that make people give up, like, their kidney or something! Or make you their slave or take away your first born child!" Alfred continued on, heedless of anything Arthur was writing down.

**You're being ridiculous. If you would just-**

"How do you even know that pendant can even do what they said it can?" The raving idiot knocked Arthur's tablet out of his face, sending it clattering to the floor, Arthur left with only the quill in his hands. Alfred was getting a bit too mulish for Arthur's taste and he wasquickly losing his temper; all previously fuzzy feelings from that morning were gone and replaced with the same anger from the previous night. "It's probably cursed or something! Francis accepted some kind of comb from a group of nymphs in Romaand if Kiku hadn't made the nymphs reverse their deal and accept the comb back, he'd be bald for the rest of his life!"

Arthur would have stormed out in disgust if he still wasn't naked, cursing his decision to drop his pants back on the floor instead of pulling them on; Alfred wasn't listening to him, wasn't hearing anything he was trying to say, wasn't paying attention that if he let Arthur explain, he could tell him everything Yao had told him and that they didn't have much to worry about. He didn't appreciate being talked down to like he was an invalid and he didn't appreciate the thought that he was so simple he'd be tricked as easily as that pervert Francis! Mainly, he was just angry that Alfred was being such an obnoxious pain in the arse. So, he let him know.

_If you would just shut your bloody trap for one measly second I could explain everything to you, you daft, utter fool!_

Alfred, amazingly, did shut up and stared at Arthur, a disbelieving, confused, and amazed expression crossing his face. "Did-did you just—what did you just do?"

Arthur, still breathing heavily in his anger, shook his head, not understanding the question and made to start putting on his clothes when Alfred grabbed him and pulled him back down, shaking his head and looking at Arthur's clenched fist. "I _heard_ you, Arthur, I heard you in my head…you told me to shut my 'bloody trap' and called me an idiot and I—I heard it up here."

He tapped his head, a wild, hopeful look in his eyes and picked up the pendant from Arthur's hand, who was still trying to comprehend what Alfred had said, because he had repeated what Arthur had yelled at him voicelessly and he knew that the idiot couldn't lip-read so…so did he really 'hear' it? "It was weird! I don't know what your voice sounds like, but I think it had to have been you, like a weird echo or something…I wonder if this actually works…"

Arthur shrugged helplessly, his anger still present but taking a back seat to this new development, shooting Alfred a weak glare meant to say 'that's what I've been trying to tell you.'

"Has it worked before?" Arthur shook his head no and Alfred pursed his lips in thought, leaning forward and handing the pendant back to Arthur. "Try putting it on."

Alfred sat cross-legged on the covers of the bed, holding the choker out in front of him, an inquisitive, curious look on his face; Arthur stared at it a moment, feeling the same trepidation he'd felt since the fairies had given it to him, but he complied after the short hesitation, taking it from Alfred and clipping it around his neck. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, he wasn't used to wearing anything on his neck and it felt constricting, not unlike a collar, but at least he didn't drop dead or turn into anything unpleasant. He believed Yao's interpretation to a point…he wasn't entirely sure the merchant was completely trust-worthy though and it never hurt to err on the side of caution. He looked up at Alfred's eager face and shrugged his shoulders, not sure what the boy wanted him to do now.

"Well, say something."

Arthur was not amused and glared back, motioning towards his knocked aside tablet on the other side of the room. Alfred shook his head and grabbed both of his hands with his own, tugging Arthur closer and smiling brightly. "No, just try and say something, try talking like normal."

Arthur raised his eyebrow skeptically but complied. _I really don't know what you're expecting to happen._

"I'm expecting to be able to hear you in my head," Alfred grinned.

_In your—wait a moment, you can hear me? _

"Yeah, yeah I can hear you, Iggy."

Arthur stared at Alfred for a moment, stared at the wide, happy smile and felt something unidentifiable well up within him, something that was a mixture of relief, disbelief, and wonder all wrapped up into one. Alfred could hear him, hear him in his head…he could speak actual words and someone would be able to listen; Arthur looked up and smiled, laughing silently before Alfred wrapped him in a huge hug, exclaiming in a mystified whisper that he could even hear Arthur laughing. Arthur closed his eyes, his hands nearly shaking in relief, and clutched Alfred closer.

"_This will help you speak without voice to whom your heart as words for,_" Maribel had said to him, Arthur remembered now. He had not understood what she had meant, and to be honest, thought it sounded a bit hokey, but now, now it made sense, wrapped up in Alfred's stronger-than-normal embrace, skin pressing to skin. Speak to who his heart had words for…it was all quiet obvious in hindsight (though their love-making the previous night probably had a lot to do with that) and he tugged on Alfred's hair to tilt his head back, pressing a fierce kiss to the younger man's lips, trying to convey everything he couldn't fit in words, this time having nothing to do with his lack of voice.

It worked, Alfred pulling away with a dopey grin on his face, a hand reaching up to comb through Arthur's messy hair, a different kind of understanding echoing between them as they smiled at each other. Alfred slipped to lie down on his back and tugged Arthur to rest on top of him a mock-stern look crossing his face as spoke. "Now…want to tell me about the fairies and the pendant and who you talked to in Market?"

Arthur rested his chin on his hands across Alfred's chest and quirked a reproving eyebrow. _Do you think you can control your incessant chatter long enough for me to tell you?_

Alfred laughed and nodded, a playful light in his eyes; he wrapped his arms around Arthur's back, linking his hands together at the base of his spine. "I promise to be good."

Arthur huffed silently before he started to explain, resting his ear against Alfred's beating heart while he did so. _Well, I suppose I should start with the fairies, which were just as real as any nymphs you encounter before were, I assure you…_

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Romano was in a cross mood.

This, in and of itself, was not necessarily anything out of the ordinary as Romano was usually in a cross mood and made sure to let everyone he passed know about it—he had a right, having his memory basically ruined surely gave him some kind of free pass. Still, it was still important to note to himself that he was unhappy and the source of his unhappiness, apart from not being able to remember anything, was that smug, rotten, tomato-bastard who, even though he couldn't remember the man who was supposed to be his twin, Romano knew as Antonio. And the reason why he was angry had to do with the little fact that the man seemed to have it in his head that he and Romano were some sort of 'item' and insisted on grabbing him, touching him, and generally being a pain in the ass.

It wouldn't be so bad if the bastard didn't insist on being so obnoxious around all his stupid friends (none of whom Romano remembered but all knew who he was…he hated that pitying feeling he always got from those jerks), hugging him and calling him 'Lovi' all the time. And of course that stupid bartender was of no help…he just sat around and served beer all day, probably drank it all day too. Romano would, if he had to watch over the man who everyone told him was his twin…he stared at him all the time and yet…yet he couldn't remember a thing. If they were twins, shouldn't they have had a bond or something that would at least create a niggle in the back of Romano's mind, some kind of recognition. But there was nothing …nothing but sadness for the addled fool who sang songs to pasta all day.

Antonio's friends, the ones who Antonio said were traveling around the world to hurt the man who stole away his and his twin's energy, who had made them the way they were today, were always at the inn, always talking to Romano as if he should know who they were, as if he had met them before. As if he and Antonio were really lovers. He hated it, hated it so much that he'd had to storm out that morning and stomped through the city until he couldn't remember what they had all eve been discussing in the first place. It didn't take long…it never did.

All but Antonio's words—those always were remembered and Romano didn't know why.

He huffed and sat down moodily on a bench in the middle of one of the parks, wondering if he'd been there before and didn't know it, wondering why being able to remember Antonio made him both ridiculously happy and unimaginably annoyed. He assumed the former was just because it was a relief to be able to hold onto to someone, to be able to remember him and the words he told him, even if was an insufferable prick, which Romano assumed was the reasoning for the annoyance. But still…something about that reasoning didn't seem right and he hated not being right. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the pigeons (that's what Antonio called them…Romano couldn't even remember what they were beyond that), recalling each and every word Antonio told him about why he was the way he was.

It was all because of a man called Ivan Braginski. He was the reason for everything.

He had stolen energy from Romano and his twin, energy that kept the two of them looking young and able to do odd things like create light and sparks from their fingers; energy that had kept them whole. Now, they were half of what they were, manifesting in different ways between the two: Romano kept his sanity, but lost his memory, for Feliciano, it was the opposite. Romano had a hard time figuring out who got the worse bit of that deal. And he had stolen hundreds of other things too, youth, gifts, power, from hundreds of other people; he even stole people, if Antonio was to be believed. Ivan Braginski had stolen a friend of Antonio's once, the bastard said, and now was looking to steal another from his friends; the man with the odd red band across his neck. Romano didn't remember the man but he remembered that mark, another thing that confused and frustrated him.

It wasn't just that mark he remembered…he remembered the others too, the ones that some of Antonio's friends carried and he knew, without knowing why, that it was related to Ivan Braginski, a man he could not remember a face or voice to. It was an odd thing, whatever was wrong with his memory…he remembered Antonio, but not his own brother, he remembered a mark on someone and what it meant, but not who the person was. He knew Ivan Braginski and didn't…and people wondered why he was always in a bad mood. They should all try living in his jumbled head for a day and see how they felt afterwards!

He sighed and looked around, his dark hair, and that stupid, errant curl that always got in the way, falling into his eyes as he glared at the pigeons some more. Well, he supposed he'd have to head back soon…he wouldn't remember how to get back to the inn, but he could ask someone and they'd point him in the right direction. Antonio had told everyone about his 'problem' and they all knew to direct him to the inn if he was out by himself; it was their meeting spot, Antonio had told him with a secret smile that Romano did not understand. He was pointed in the right direction by a kindly old woman and he began stomping back when something caught his eye.

There was a woman striding down the streets, her long, platinum-blonde hair held back from her doll-like face with a white bow, her blue dress swishing around her stockings knees, black-buckles shoes clipping on the cobblestones. She was pale and her skin looked a little off, as of it glittered in the sun and was too still, too stone-like; her face was beautiful, but there was a dark look about her that warded most off. Romano couldn't see what color her eyes were from this distance, but he knew they were blue, just like he knew he had seen this girl somewhere before, seen her apart from Antonio. She paused at the corner before taking off towards the red district, where the brothels and specialty clubs of the city existed; Romano could see the glint of a knife in the back of her dress, tucked into the bow wrapped around her slender waist.

Diamonds…hard and cold against his neck while someone large loomed over another young man, a reddish curl sticking out errantly…a smile that promised everything would be all right but made his skin crawl. A cold feeling of rage before the uncomfortable sensation of something inherently his being removed, sucked away without a thought to whether he needed it or not. He shook his head and watched the girl until she disappeared into the mass of people…her diamonds holding him fast; his head pounded and he had to squint his eyes shut to keep the sunlight from making it worse.

When the pain lessened, Romano blinked open his eyes and stared in stunned disbelief in the middle of the street, all thoughts of the inn gone; a memory, he was sure that had been a memory. It was jumbled and gone like quicksilver, but Romano was sure that's what it had been—he knew, really _knew_ that girl from somewhere, knew that she had skin that was harder than diamonds and a temperament to match. And while he wasn't sure why he could remember that, or even what that girl's name was, he knew it was true. His stare hardened into an angry glare and he made to stomp after her, determined to get some kind of answer, wondering if he'd be able to remember anything he could get her to say, but he didn't get very far before he felt a hand close around his arm and yank him backwards. He flailed for a moment before he looked up and saw who was holding him.

Then he swore angrily and stomped on Antonio's foot, smiling in glee as the taller man winced and hopped onto one foot, shooting him a hurt look; he firmly ignored any stupid regret that cropped up. "Stupid bastard, that's what you get for sneaking up on me!"

"Aw, Lovi, don't be so mean to me! I was just worried for you; you know you shouldn't wander alone for too long."

"I'm not a dumb baby! I can look after myself!" Romano wasn't sure this was true, but he wasn't about to admit that to Antonio, he'd never get rid of the bastard then.

"_Si, si_, I know _mi hermoso_, but I cannot help but worry. Don't be too angry with me, Lovi," Antonio smiled guilelessly and Romano felt his anger fade away reluctantly; he hated it when Antonio talked his way out of trouble. It happened way too often.

"Humph, whatever…and don't call me Lovi…"

Antonio beamed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding them both back towards the inn no doubt, and leaving Romano to only gaze down the street that girl had disappeared down. Even now, he was starting to forget exactly why he'd wanted to follow her, but it had seemed important…he hated that his memory was so useless. Antonio glanced down at him, green eyes reflecting concern and affection, his brown, curly hair framing his face attractively—stupidly attractive, like a peacock, Romano added on, remembering the odd creature Antonio had pointed out in Market one day.

"What is wrong, Lovi? What are you looking after? The red district is no place for you, naughty boy!"

Romano elbowed him in the stomach and glared. "Don't say such stupid things, you tomato-bastard! I don't want to go there…it was just, there was a girl." He paused for a moment, a confused look overtaking his face before he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders in an angry sort of resignation. "She looked—I don't know. I just wanted to follow her. Her skin glittered like diamonds and I—I'm not sure. I don't remember why but I wanted to follow her."

Antonio had tensed against him, glancing behind him with an unusual dark, intense look in his eyes before he smiled reassuringly at Romano, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against the smaller man's, laughing when Romano jerked away and punched him in the shoulder. "Ah, a pretty _chica_ is stealing my darling Lovi away! Life is cruel to me!"

Romano struggled more and yelled at the bastard that he was a stupid idiot as they made their way back, nothing seemingly amiss with how they usually acted together, but he saw the way Antonio kept glancing behind them, as if waiting for a whirl of metal and diamonds to appear. He blinked at the odd thought, not sure where it came from, before he finally managed to dislodge Antonio outside the inn and stomped angrily back inside, deciding he needed something to drink after today, especially if Antonio's dumb friends were still there that night.

He didn't see how Antonio, once he'd recovered from the kick to his shins (he was really lucky he didn't bruise that easily, with all the abuse he took from Romano Lovino Vargas), glared darkly down the road to where, if you went past homes and streets and shops, you'd be in the red district. And he didn't hear Antonio Carriedo welcome Natalia Arlovskaya, accomplice to Ivan Braginski and a girl with skin as hard as diamonds, back to Spandow with an angry and vengeful inflection to his voice.

TBC…

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Everyone...you all are awesome. That is all!

Osco


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Of Silence and Thievery (10/?)  
Genre: humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Notice how the projected length of this thing keeps getting longer...damn it. This is kind of an experiment. I've had this idea in my head for awhile and figured I'd give it a shot, and if it turned out all right, work on this as an original work. Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_**Chapter Nine: Where There are Brothels and Disguises, Much to Arthur's Dismay**_

When Arthur and Alfred finally descended from their room later that morning (lunch time really), both fully clothed and in agreement to keep Arthur's pendant and its special ability regarding Alfred quiet from most of the crew. Seychelles could know and so could Gilbert, Frances, Vash, and the rest of Alfred's group, but the less people knew, the better it probably was. Arthur certainly didn't need word getting back to Ivan that not only had he been given an actual Faerie token, but that he'd been given their blessing in his pursuit against Ivan and reclaiming his voice. Sailors liked to talk…it was too risky to let many people know about all of what the faeries' deal if there was a chance they'd talk about the moment they got a bit of spirits in them.

Arthur had pointedly asked why they were including Gilbert on their list of people to tell, when the man had proved on more than one occasion in Spandow that he drank more than was healthy and was quite loud to make up his deafness, but Alfred had waved off the concern. Gilbert knew when to keep something to himself, Alfred had said, even when he was shit-faced drunk; Arthur had simply scowled and shrugged in reply of the brightly positive grin Alfred gave him as he answered. He wasn't entirely sure of that, but Alfred had known Gilbert for longer than he—although hearing Gilbert's loud laughter as they walked downstairs into the pub did little to reassure his mind.

Arthur had not been looking forward to showing himself that morning, knowing that, despite whatever promises Alfred said he'd had the crew make in regards to their new 'relationship,' he was likely going to be enduring raunchy jokes and probing leers (and possible inappropriate groping from Francis). However, he was somewhat surprised to find that everyone in the inn, which was mainly consisting of the _Evangeline_ crew, were crowded around a very flustered Romano and a darkly grinning Antonio. Alfred shared a look with him, shrugging his broad shoulders in equal confusion at the gathering before he called out to everyone and announced their arrival. Arthur noted that Romano looked incredibly relieved to have the attention turned away from him.

"Morning guys! What's with the pow-wow…you guys wouldn't happen to be planning a mission without your heroic leader, now would you?" Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred's over-the-top pose, but he was the only one. Everyone else appeared to be quite used to his ridiculousness (and if Arthur was being honest, he did find it rather endearing, which was a difference from how he felt about it earlier…not that he'd let Alfred know that), and had excitement all over their faces. "Ok, really, what's up?"

"Romano spotted Natalia." Esther stated with a darkly anticipating look in her eyes, her hands clenching tight against the table—Arthur was not to proud to admit that she looked particularly menacing with that wolfish grin on her face.

Alfred went still, the genuine smile slipping off his face and leaving him with a strangely serious expression, strange because it looked so out of place on the boy's face when not tinged with anger. "You're serious? She's in Spandow? Are you sure?"

Antonio nodded emphatically. "No doubt, Lovi described her as having diamond skin. He cannot remember people, true, but sometimes his memory is triggered by an event or a person…she triggered his memory long enough for him to give an accurate description of Natalia. There are not many people who have skin that glitters like diamonds, no?"

"Even if it's not certain, it's worth investigating…Ivan is usually more careful than that, sending one of his lackeys to the same city we happen to be in. He's either planning something or he's slipped…either way, we should look into it." Seychelles scratched at the skin underneath her eye patch, a small frown on her pretty face.

Alfred nodded absently, reaching back behind him to drag Arthur forward so he was no longer outside the circle, sparing him a small smile while he did so –Arthur scowled and looked down, willing the damnable flush to his cheeks away before anyone noticed. Luckily, only Feliciano, who was sitting on Ludwig's knee like a child, seemed to be paying him any attention, waving at him and smiling vacantly. "Did you see where she went?"

Romano glared at the question and Antonio rushed in to answer Alfred's ill-addressed question. If being silent had any benefit to it, Arthur supposed it was his increased awareness of everything else around him, be it body language or the way someone said something. It was a small consolation, but it was better than nothing he supposed. "Romano had been heading in the direction of Spandow's red-light district, just south of the Market…it's likely she went there."

"It will certainly be trying to search for the girl in a place filled with beautiful women and me unable to see any of them!" Francis mock sighed and pouted in jest at Seychelles, but there was an eager glint in his milky eyes.

Arthur wondered briefly how often it was that Alfred and his group actually managed to stop or catch up with Ivan's plans, if they all got so serious and excited over some girl who may or may not be in the city, just because she could be an associate of Ivan's. Maybe their encounters with Ivan were fewer and far between before he had joined their little group…that didn't make him feel better in the slightest. Gilbert complained, loudly of course, that they should just go knock on doors and ask if anybody had been emotionally traumatized by a small, blonde girl, grumbling that'd be a sure sign if this Natalia was these, Vash hitting him upside the head and shouting that was a stupid plan. Rosa and Alejandro began arguing with the two of them about what would be the best method to approach Natalia and little Lily was trying to get them all to quiet down, shooting concerned looks at Feliciano who was starting to look distressed with the arguing.

Ludwig was trying, and failing, to keep Feliciano calm, but eventually he gave up and herded the young man away, giving his brother a pointed look before he disappeared into the back, huffing and muttering under his breath as he went; Romano cursed and followed after, pushing off an apologetic Antonio's hand as he followed Ludwig and his twin into the backroom. Kiku was staring at all the arguing impassively, which had inevitably drawn in the captain and Alfred by this point, and shook his head, taking a small sip of his tea and shooting concerned looks towards where Feliciano had been taken. Arthur frowned and felt his irritation build up until he scribbled down words on his tablet and slammed it on the table, glaring at the numerous sets of eyes that swung around to focus on him.

**Would you all shut your bloody mouths! Your arguing is doing nothing but sending Feliciano into a fit! **The orange words faded away and Arthur wasted no time in scribbling down his next words. **What you should ask yourselves is whether this girl knows we're here or not.**

Kiku made a noise of agreement and spared Arthur a small smile of thanks before he spoke to the group. "Arthur-san makes a good point. Natalia likely knows we are here; I doubt that Ivan made that large of an oversight in regards to our location, especially considering his recent desire to steal away Arthur-san. I'm sure he knows we're in Germania."

"He does," Alfred said suddenly. Arthur looked over at the young man in surprise, about to ask through the pendant why he didn't mention it earlier, but the expression on Alfred's face stopped his words. It was an oddly surprised expression, as if he was remembering something he already knew but had only just realized it; Alfred glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and Arthur noted a red tinge flood the tips of his ears. "I, uh, I think I might have felt him peeking yesterday…I only just remembered but I'm positive it was him."

"Why did you only 'just' remember? Don't you usually always know when that creep is looking? I sure as hell know you always like to tell us right after…" Gilbert asked with a wide and surprisingly evil grin, scowling at Vash when he elbowed the deaf man in the ribs.

"I was distracted." Alfred muttered the words darkly and Arthur could really see the flush now, creeping down the golden neck and touching the beginnings of his cheek. And then it hit him.

Arthur felt a sick swoop of dread curl in his stomach, staring at Alfred in horror as his words sunk in. He ducked his face behind his tablet and asked Alfred quickly, happy he had decided to keep the blasted pendant (which was really a bit too much like a choker or collar for Arthur to feel completely comfortable with) on, glaring at him and praying to any deity that might hear that Alfred wasn't going to answer the way Arthur thought he was going to answer.

_Distracted? As in, you felt this when we were upstairs last evening?_

"Maybe."

_So…he saw us being, together, and all that? _

"I don't know…maybe just when you kissed me…I can't remember if it happened any time after that since—"

_Keep your bloody voice down, you idiot! Just nod your head or…and splendid, now they're all looking at you. Wonderful._

Arthur glared at Alfred hotly as the moron glanced up at the rather confused faces staring back at him, rubbing his neck sheepishly as he smiled weakly at Arthur before motioning to the pendant at Arthur's neck. "He's got a pendant-thingy that lets him talk in my head. It's a really long story, I'll fill you guys in later I promise. The important thing is that Braginski does know we're here so Natalia probably does as well."

There was a moment of silence around the table, everyone both digesting the news that Arthur could apparently 'speak' to Alfred in his head and the problem that if Ivan knew they were in Spandow, why had he sent Natalia there. Or, if he hadn't why she had come alone. Arthur, however, was a bit more concerned with the idea that Ivan had seen Arthur and Alfred otherwise engaged the previous night, both because it was disturbing that such a private and intimate moment had been touched by that man and because of how Arthur remember Ivan had acted around Alfred.

Arthur had tried not to think about the odd fascination that Ivan had with Alfred and the words Ivan had spoken to Arthur in the Nords in regards to Alfred following Ivan if were to take Arthur. And the anger that had tinged the deep violet eyes when it was clear how hard Alfred was willing to fight to defend Arthur. What would happen now that Ivan was aware of the new stage his and Alfred's relationship had entered? He recalled how darkly jealous those eyes had been and he felt sick at the answer—Ivan did more than just scare him, after all the giant man had done in the past few months, and now he was sure he had just drawn an even larger target on his back.

He wondered if Alfred was even aware of Ivan's obsession. True, Alfred had a little obsession of his own in regards to hunting Ivan, but his was understandable and wasn't nearly as worrying as the Ivan's regarding him. From the way Alfred spoke about it, and the way the other crew members reacted to the news that Ivan had peeked into their whereabouts, it sounded as if this was a common enough occurrence, which made Arthur feel unsettled. Maybe they hadn't had the chance to speak with Ivan, and survive without being stolen away, the way Arthur had, and maybe Alfred was too caught up in his anger over what had happened to his brother to notice, but there was something odd and wrong with how Ivan was fixated on Alfred. And now Arthur had fully and completely sandwiched himself into the situation and possibly made himself and even more attractive target. This was all becoming quite a mess…

"Arthur?" Alfred's voice snapped him out of his dreary musings and looked into the concerned blue eyes, shaking off the silent question. He most certainly did NOT want to talk about what was going on in his head at the moment. Alfred scrunched his eyes a bit in the worried sort of confusion but he didn't pursue the matter, for which Arthur was immensely grateful for—he'd just convinced himself that he should at least give their relationship a go, he didn't need to add this new threat from Ivan on top of all his other doubts as well.

"Alfred-san, do you think Master Yao may have something to add to this discussion? You spoke with him the other day, did he share any ideas or hints regarding Ivan sending Natalia to us when he knew our location?" Kiku's black ears were flicked back pensively and he held his chin in the palm of his hand; the others had immediately gone back to 'discussing' what the best way to find Natalia would be.

"Uh, I don't think so…we could ask him again I guess. But he doesn't really follow Braginski's supporters, just Braginski."

Kiku went silent once more, black eyes looking at nothing as his mind worked over what they could do or who they could ask about Natalia without drawing the girl's attention to them. Arthur didn't know much about this girl other than she had diamond-hard skin, was dangerous, and had been instrumental in the events that had allowed Toris to be taken and the twins to be attacked. And, if current conversation could be trusted, she was quite unbalanced as well, having freely joined Ivan in his 'mission' and often acting as his spy. All in all, not someone he was looking forward to meeting.

Seychelles interrupted the arguing and musing going around the table, and nearly starting Kiku out of his seat if his suddenly bushy tail had anything to do with it, with a cry of success, banging on the table with the flat of her hand. She looked around at each person and grinned wickedly, looking even more fetching than usual. "I have the perfect idea. She's in the red-light district, that much we know, and we don't want to draw attention to ourselves that we're poking around for her, so the best thing to do would be to blend in and make sure we're not noticed!"

There was a distinct moment of silence, one where Arthur felt an unpleasant swoop of foreboding at what Seychelles was implying and what Francis was smirking slowly at. "Are you suggesting we go undercover, _mon petit_?"

"I am suggesting we do what we need to do to not draw attention to ourselves. There are quite a few, ah, places there that cater to some specific tastes that we could use to poke around without being obvious about it."

"And, how do you suggest we do this?" Vash's eyes were narrowed and he kept shooting protective glances at Lily. "Walk around like common prostitutes?"

"No, we're too well fed and groomed for that. But not for the ones set up in a brothel, which is a likely place to look around for her. There are a few of them that run some less than reputable operations using the guise of the brothel as a front. Things like slave and drugs rings, I'm sure Natalia is here for something like that. Ivan has to get his funds from somewhere and that's always been what we assumed; it'd also explain what she's doing here when it obvious he knows we are here. If he needed to send her here to collect their funds, he may have done so before he knew we were in Spandow."

"It sounds a little too dangerous, even for us," Alfred said with a frown. Arthur was dumbfounded at Alfred showing some reservation—usually he was the first one on board with a dangerous plan (usually suggesting it to be honest), but this one he didn't like? As much as Arthur was starting to dislike the idea Seychelles was suggesting, he couldn't very well deny that it not only made sense but also was most likely to work in sneaking up on this girl. Arthur gave Alfred a questioning glare when Alfred's darted a look at him before looking back at Seychelles; the boy knew something and the guilty look told him everything.

But then, Gilbert cleared up any confusion Arthur may have had regarding what Seychelles had planned. "I only caught about half of that, but there is no way in HELL I'm dressing up as a slave just because you've been trying to get half the men on your ship into a corset for six years to fulfill some sick fantasy of yours!"

Seychelles gave Gilbert an unimpressed look before she addressed the crew again, which had the male members, and Arthur included, looking more than a little uncomfortable. "Don't listen to him, he's exaggerating. And they're not corsets…there is nothing wrong with wanting to see good-looking men in clothes that would fit them nicely; as Captain, I believe it's my prerogative. And if you're that scared, Gilly, you don't have to go. You can guard Ludwig's inn all day."

Gilbert glared. "Being scared as nothing to do with not wanting to wear shirts with frills and lace-up sides."

"Then you can be an owner if it bothers you that much," Seychelles snapped. "Listen, this could work as long as we're careful about it. I'm sure the owners of these brothels or rings don't appreciate Ivan threatening them on a constant basis and taking away part of their profit. A lot of these brothels are big, they won't notice a few new faces and it'll give us better access to what Natalia may be doing, might even get us a shot at tracking her which could lead us to Ivan, which has only been our goal for the past few years!"

Arthur heard the table grumble in reluctant agreement, most still looking wary of whatever this plan would have them do; he couldn't blame them, he was wary as well, even if he did find it logical and likely to work. He knew of the trafficking rings that ran through Germania and Roma, even living in Britannia he'd heard of them, and they certainly weren't something one wanted to get mixed up with, even peripherally as Seychelles was suggesting they could do. Still…if it gave them a chance at discovering wherever Ivan could be, and it very likely could, Arthur had a hard time telling himself that it wasn't worth the danger. He noticed that Alfred was having a similar battle with himself, trying to surreptitiously weigh out the pros and cons of Seychelles plan with his hands, a small frown marring his face. Arthur had to look away to keep from smiling inanely at how completely endearing the fool looked.

"Well, how would you suggest we do this then?" Esther asked. She crooked her dark eyebrow at Seychelles and rested her chin on her interlinked fingers. "Who would be disguised as what, in other words."

"I suggest a couple 'owners' and the rest go as their, ah, their servants."

"Call it slaves, it's what we'd be acting as," Vash muttered darkly.

"Fine, as slaves. We could each hit one of the larger brothels and poke around, see if we can find any information on Natalia and if she's there. As long as we keep our heads and don't indulge in the heroics, no matter how much we may want to, we should be able to get info on Natalia if she's there without drawing attention to ourselves."

Esther and Francis nodded in agreement right away; Vash, Rosa, and Kiku gave it a bit more thought before voicing their agreement with their captain while Alejandro just grunted and gave her a terse nod of his own (Lily had tried to nod but Vash had quickly herded her away, speaking to her in soft tones, no doubt telling her she couldn't come along). Gilbert, Alfred and Antonio took the longest but eventually gave nods of their own, leaving only Arthur left; he nodded soundlessly, deciding that whatever his forebodings regarding Seychelles plan could be put aside in exchange for a chance to pinpoint a physical location for Ivan. He had some possible ideas based on the charts and webbings of events he'd created on his maps but still nothing definite. This could change all that.

"Good. Now then, Antonio, I know Romano shouldn't go with us and you'd be too easily recognizable, so I'd rather you act as a scout for us. Take Romano in that area, see if you can get a reaction out of him. He may be reacting to her because she was a part in what happened to him and Feli…she may have traces of his energy on her and that could be what's triggered his memory." Arthur raised his eyebrow at Seychelles's sharp deduction…that certainly seemed like a plausible enough answer and better than any Antonio had been able to provide. "You can give us a heads up before we head off tonight."

Antonio didn't look thrilled about risking Romano but he nodded and flashed a grin before taking off into the back room to grab the young man.

Seychelles looked over at Kiku, a slightly pitying look on her face. "Kiku, I know I'm asking a lot of you already in agreeing to do this, but do you think could check with Yao in the Market about a way to get into the district unnoticed?"

Kiku's face was blank of emotion and there was a heavy moment that Arthur didn't quite understand before the Kitsune smiled politely and gave a small, bow of acknowledgement. He quirked a look over at Alfred, demanding some sort of explanation without being obvious about it, but, of course, the idiot ruined that, whispering exaggeratedly that he'd tell him later. Kiku shook his head indulgently at Alfred before sparing Arthur an approving look, letting him know he didn't mind if the story was shared, rising from his seat and heading out the door in an instant, his tail sleek and unruffled behind him.

"All right, that leaves us then. And I know just how to group us too!"

Seychelles grinned and gave them a wink—Arthur sighed heavily, silent to everyone but Alfred, and rubbed at his temples to try and keep a headache, and his temper, at bay. He already knew what Seychelles was going to say and tried to tell himself it was a necessary evil to go along with it.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Arthur was staring at his reflection with disdain. Alfred was staring at both Arthur's reflection and his bare back with amazement and Arthur wondered, just wondered mind you, certainly not wishing for it himself, if Alfred would be able to last the next five minutes without pouncing on him, let alone the whole night. He felt a thrill of pride at the reaction he provoked out of Alfred, but the other part, the part that was balking at being forced into the 'slave' role because he couldn't speak and it 'all worked out for the best that way' (as Seychelles had said), was more annoyed than anything else. He frowned at Alfred via his reflection and tugged at the ridiculous outfit Seychelles had asked (aka glowered until he caved and said yes) he wear for their little foray into espionage.

Gilbert had been exaggerating when he said corset, though not by much. Arthur had been selected, along with Vash, Rosa, Esther, and Francis to pose as the subservient halves of Seychelles' plan (though Vash had been thoroughly upset at hearing that he'd have to act as Gilbert's 'slave' because he was so pretty and could pull it off…it had taken a combined effort to pull the irate blond off the choking albino) and therefore had to wear something that would denote his position. So Seychelles had chosen something for each person that was both uncomfortable (in Arthur's opinion) and revealing. Of course Francis hardly minded, and both Esther and Rosa were to focused on getting a chance at Natalia to care that nearly any limb was subject to poke through the shifting silks or that their waists were practically crushed by the corsets Seychelles had wrapped them in, but Arthur was hardly pleased.

He was stuck in a pair of lace-up, black trousers that were closer to riding leathers than actual pants and dark green, sheer tunic that was molded to him by a matching black leather jerkin that left a large scoop of his back exposed for all to see through the sheer tunic. He wasn't exactly sure why Seychelles had clothes that looked like they belonged in a men's harem, but there had been plenty for her to choose from—and she had taken much too much pleasure in dressing everyone up. He glared at his reflection again and fumed; another problem was that he very well couldn't complain about anything either. Seychelles plan was, admittedly, a good one and she had a point in having him in the role he was…he couldn't talk and it's make more sense if he was a silent slave as opposed to a silent owner.

And as much as he hated to admit it, the clothes weren't nearly as bad as they could be; they managed to be appropriate for the role but still showcased the fact that he was obviously male. He picked at the tight jerkin again and swung his glare backwards towards Alfred when the idiot boy had the gall to chuckle a bit at him. He was hardly dressed all that different than normal, just in a finer jacket and trousers than normal, and he had no right to find anything regarding this situation funny. Alfred, however, thought otherwise and continued to chuckle softly, a pink tinge cast to his face as he got up and let his eyes rove over Arthur.

"Quit tugging…it looks good. Really good."

Arthur huffed and scowled deeper but his hands dropped to his sides. _Stop looking so damn pleased with yourself, git._

Alfred pouted but it was done in play—the arse didn't feel one bit remorseful for his ogling and soft laughter. "Oh come on, Iggy! It's not like we're gonna have to do, you know, stuff or anything…we'll just look around and see if we can find out anything about what Natalia's doing and that's it."

_Easy for you to say…you're not the one dressed up as some harlot with leather chafing in places where it shouldn't!_

Alfred's eyes dropped down and he got a slack-eyed look as he stared at the aforementioned leather trousers and Arthur snarled silently, smacking him upside the head none-to-gently. "Hey! That hurt, meanie! And you don't look like a harlot…okay, maybe you do but that's the point, right?"

_That is hardly comforting._

Alfred sighed loudly before he wrapped his arms around Arthur from behind and nuzzled his chin against the shorter man's shoulder, bright, blue eyes blinking at him apologetically from the mirror. "It's just for one night. I'm not really that thrilled about it either but if it gets us one step closer to Braginski we gotta do it…right, Arthur? If you really don't wanna do this, I'll tell Seychelles…"

_Don't be daft. I said I would, didn't I? _Arthur shuffled in Alfred's hold to quirk a look at the younger man, already feeling his annoyance and embarrassment from the outfit and situation bleeding away under Alfred's affectionate gaze. It was ridiculous how much one smile or look from Alfred could to him, Arthur thought to himself, already feeling himself falling deeper into his stare—he shook his head and shrugged out of Alfred's hold. Alfred flashed him a confused look but didn't press, simply stepped beside him and took his hand; Arthur gripped it back which eased any worries in Alfred's eyes, for which he was grateful. No need to burden the boy with his own multiple misgivings, especially not when he would need to keep his focus where they were headed.

"Don't worry, Iggy, I'm an awesome actor! They definitely won't suspect us and I'll make sure no wandering hands bother you!"

_You best…I hardly think Seychelles would approve if we ruined her whole plan by me breaking some poor sod's wrist. _

Arthur hoped that his very really worry over this whole plan hadn't bled through too much—it was mortifying that he really would have to essentially depend on Alfred for any sort of protection against the types of people who owned others. The very idea was revolting to Arthur, but even more so, it seemed, to Kiku, who was not accompanying them as another slave. Esther and Rosa were paired with Alejandro while Gilbert and Seychelles were going as a married couple with Vash and Francis as their slaves. Alfred and Arthur were paired together as well, as Seychelles said it'd work out best that way since Alfred was the only who could hear when he spoke. He had already tried using the pendant to speak to the others…none ever heard him.

Personally, Arthur thought that was just Seychelles excuse for pairing the two of them together since she knew neither of them would stand for being paired with anyone else. She really was too clever for her own good most of the time.

"Don't worry, nothin'll happen." Alfred smiled down at him, reassuringly Arthur noted, and Arthur gave a small nod before he leaned up and pressed a small kiss to his mouth, nodding once more as they headed out the door to meet the rest of the group downstairs. Esther and Rosa had already departed with Yao, who had agreed, after speaking with Kiku earlier that day (though Arthur still did not have the story as to why that was such a big deal), to bring them into the brothels where the slave rings operated and Natalia was likely to be. Antonio was fixing something on Francis's costume when they came down stairs, followed shortly by a very upset looking Vash, whose outfit was much more revealing than Arthur's…something that Arthur gave silent thanks for. Vash grunted a greeting at the two of them before he railed against Seychelles and Gilbert, both looking quite dapper and sophisticated, Seychelles clipping a leash onto the collar encircling Francis' throat.

"Clever, isn't it? This way no one will think twice at his inability to see well in the brothel." Seychelles said in greeting, noticing how both Arthur and Alfred's eyes went to the leash and how unruffled Francis appeared to be with it.

"Sure, let's call it that," Alfred muttered. Gilbert looked equally unexcited, shoving Vash off at Seychelles every time the blond man began yelling at him anew—Lily was braiding Feliciano's hair and sitting beside Kiku.

"Oh hush, you. Yao will be back soon…we're going to the Red Garter brothel. There has already been some talk, Antonio said, about an odd girl that's been in the backrooms there…might be Natalia so keep sharp."

Arthur nodded for both himself and Alfred, who was still sulking; it seemed whatever positive side to their plan he had found from Arthur's outfit had evaporated and the boy was back to looking uncomfortable. Arthur nudged him with his elbow and blinked up at him sternly; he was worrying enough for the both of them, the least Alfred could do was to pull himself together. _I do hope you're not going to pout in the brothel. _

"I'm not pouting!"

_I'm afraid to say that you are, love. _Arthur blushed a bit at the endearment that slipped out, one from his home that he hardly used on anyone beyond the kindly old flower shopkeeper and a few of his more regular and manageable customers at the bookshop. It was a perfectly acceptable term to call someone and it hardly ever meant love as in lover but still…Alfred had caught it as well and the tips of his ears were pinker than usual. _You—you've got to get it together, you idiot! If you keep pouting they'll know you don't really belong and then I would've been dressed in this ridiculous outfit for nothing!_

"Ok, ok…no more pouting, hero's honor!" Alfred gave him a small salute and grin along with his words. He was still smiling when Yao reentered the inn, looking strangely ordinary to Arthur in just a plain tunic and trousers whereas he'd been dressed ornately and in bright red silks before. He spared Arthur a small smile and Alfred a nod before he turned his attention to Seychelles.

"The others have arrived successfully. Are you ready to go?" Arthur noticed that Kiku had slipped out of his chair and took Feliciano's hand, leading the addled man into the back room without so much as a glance in greeting towards Yao. The merchant watched him go with a sad, somewhat regretful look in his eyes before he smiled cheerfully at the others again—he should have pressed Alfred for that story while they had been getting ready.

"Yes, we're all set. Antonio, be a dear and keep an eye on the rest of my crew…make sure they don't set my girl on fire again." Seychelles rose and grabbed hold of Francis' leash, Gilbert doing the same with a fuming Vash, who seemed to be trying to get out all of his anger and indignation now before they arrived at the brothel. Gilbert placed and arm around Seychelles shoulders and gave a terse nod, his usual brash grin subdued and hidden away. Arthur thought it had been a good idea Seychelles had decided to pair up with Gilbert—whatever was bothering the deaf hunter about this mission was likely to distract him and this way she could repeat anything to him so he could lip-read before answering.

"Then let's be off. The Red Garter is already quite busy tonight, you'll have no problems blending in." Arthur sure hoped so, letting Alfred take his hand as they both followed after Yao and into the night.

TBC…

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Well, sorry for the delay in getting this chapter. RL kinda kicked me around this week and the past one...it took me awhile to crank this puppy out. But I do hope you all lenjoyed this part and liked the fanservice ^_^! As always, reviews are love folks! I'm honored if you lke it and want to track it, but feedback is the way to writer's soul!

Osco


	11. Chapter 11

Title : Of Silence and Thievery (11/?)  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Longer chapter for you all! And we're back to the plot! All of you readers are awesome! Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

Note 2: I apologize profusely for the wait. Unfortunately, RL has been a bugger lately. Hopefully next chapter will not take nearly as long!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_**Chapter Eleven: Where Arthur meets New Friends and Old Enemies**_

The Red Garter was quite a den of debauchery, and while Arthur was not to surprised at this fact (it was a whorehouse after all), it was still a lot to take in when the first thing he happened upon after entering was a trio of slaves engaged in a very _interesting_ triage with a tall man in the middle of it all. He felt himself blush to the tips of his hair when one of the slaves, a pretty red-head, caught him staring and did a weird flicker thing with her tongue; he tried his best to look away placidly so as not to draw attention to his discomfort. Alfred was smiling in a slightly less obnoxious manner and kept his arm possessively wrapped around Arthur's waist (which Arthur could admit he wasn't going to complain about at the moment), his eyes not really taking in all the indecency. At least, Arthur couldn't imagine so…the boy had blushed nearly the entire time they'd been together but watching two scantily clad, tattooed slaves didn't seem to faze him at all.

Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes and grumble silent words under his breath, knowing that with the pendant on the grumbling would be heard in Alfred's head and he didn't want to startle him and draw attention. At least, unnecessary attention—Arthur swore he was going to make Seychelles pay in some way when he felt a wandering hand stroke down his hip below Alfred's arm. He took a deep breath and continued to try and seem submissive (to be honest, we was sure he wasn't doing a very good job, not like Francis who he could see practically sprawled at Seychelles feet…git) beside Alfred, who would pause and exchange pleasantries with other 'owners.' All in all, he felt completely unstable and was not at all comfortable with the possibility of how bad things could become should either he or Alfred slip up.

The trip over to the brothel had been uneventful, Yao leading their small, costumed group through the streets of Spandow with the ease of a man who spent the majority of his time going unnoticed (which was awfully similar to who a thief might move, Arthur had thought to himself). He had pointed out to Seychelles the neighboring brothel where he had led the other group and advised them to not draw attention to themselves—the men and women part of this culture did not take well to those who infiltrated it. Though, Arthur had a hard time believing that such a 'secret' slave ring was really all that much of a secret, if their ostentatious manner and surroundings were any indication. Probably had connections in the laws and governing bodies of Germania and Roma that enabled them to operate discreetly but still show-off in places like this without any interference. It made him sick, thinking that something so wrong could be so open because of under-the-table agreements and money.

Yao had guaranteed that Kiku would be keeping an eye on the area before he'd left them, not giving any reason as to why Kiku was not joining them in infiltrating the brothel or even where he was, promising to return the following morning to collect them without suspicion. The others had been satisfied with that (even though Arthur felt he still was lacking a woeful amount of information about the merchant to fully trust him) and had entered the brothel at separate times. Alfred had waited a bit after Seychelles and Gilbert had entered before hooking an arm around Arthur and murmuring to get ready as they approached the ornate doors to the brothel. They'd given the code word Yao had provided and were let in without any problems which now brought them to this moment, tactfully trying to inquire about this girl Natalia without seeming to interested and maintaining small talk with a group of people Arthur knew the crew would like to see hanged.

Well, Alfred and Seychelles were talking…Gilbert was looking disgruntled with the proceedings and Arthur had kept busy controlling his fraying temper every time he felt someone grope him (and with a glance upwards awhile back, he could see Vash was doing the same) and try to appear as a slave would. The only one who Arthur could say was completely comfortable with their mission (because even though Seychelles had suggested and pioneered it, Arthur knew she certainly wasn't enjoying what she was acting as…he'd seen her mask slip for a moment whenever she spotted a particularly down-trodden slave) was Francis, who seemed to enjoy the diaphanous clothing he had on and the attention he was garnering on Seychelles arm. Though, Arthur suspected that had much to do with not actually having to see all of what was going on around him. Though, he did see a spark of anger whenever a whimper or hiss of pain drifted towards the blind seer.

Arthur touched Alfred's arm gently and kept his head lowered so none could see his lips move. _When we are done with this Ivan business, something should be done about this mess._

Alfred didn't give any outward showing that he agreed with Arthur's words, laughing loudly at a joke some owner had told to his small group, but the hand he rested on Arthur's waist gave a small squeeze of agreement.

"So, Mr. Jones, you must tell me how you got a hold of Britannian! Their lot hardly ever ventures out of their dreary island and I can't remember the last time I met a fellow Owner who'd managed to smuggle one out! The law in that country is notoriously persistent!" The group laughed again at the portly man who had two young women draped around him; Arthur felt his irritation rise at his words regarding his homeland. It may be dreary island whose inhabitants had driven him out like an animal, but it was HIS dreary island—the fat man had no business insulting Britannia like that.

Alfred grinned rakishly and gave an unassuming shrug before he tightened his grip on Arthur, drawing the slimmer man even closer to his side (and it was frankly uncomfortable being that close, Arthur mused, his arm practically smashed between the two of them) before he answered. "Well, I'll think I'll keep that little tid-bit of information between me and Angel here. Wouldn't want y'all learning my secrets."

Alfred winked for good measure at the two female Owners gathered around and Arthur had to admit that for all his obnoxiousness and ridiculous attitude, the boy actually WAS a decent enough actor (even if his choice for slave name for Arthur was utterly ridiculous). If he didn't know any better, Arthur wouldn't have been able to notice that Alfred's smiles were anything but what they appeared to be. But he did know the boy and could tell when his smile got too wide or his words to cheerful, as if he was trying to dam back his anger with that smile or cheer. Sort of like smiling to suppress the gag-reflex, Arthur mused to himself as the two women giggled under Alfred's stare…it certainly worked well enough.

"You certainly couldn't have stolen one of their citizens right from under their government's nose, could you? Or, was this one banished? I've heard that Britannia has a rather archaic view on magic," a taller Owner drawled. "Though I have heard they are more apt to behead magic users than simply banish them."

Alfred laughed in good humor with the others, as if talk of a country killing its citizens was something of a joke, and shook his head against the tall man's questions. "I'm afraid this one has no sort of talent or gift, simply the misfortune of having his ship attacked by pirates and survive. My interest in him lay more in his looks than anything else."

"Well, he is rather exotic…if you can get past those eyebrows! Reminds me of those northerners in the Nords, with the pale skin, jewel-toned eyes and light hair. Now, you manage to get your hands on one of those and I'd sell you my weight in gold! Those savages have got their blasted Elemental mages warding their lands; they make it virtually impossible for us to get a foothold there. Can't even count on pirate attacks…every time a ship tries to intercept theirs, we get crushed by some rogue tidal wave or maelstrom!"

Arthur felt a thrill of satisfaction that the Nord Brothers were able to protect their people against this slave ring (not to mention slight awe that Nikolai's ability stretched as far and vast as the ocean itself) which was enough to counter the insult against his eyebrows. He supposed, though, if those five were strong enough to continuously counter Ivan, then this slave ring wouldn't be any problem for them. He felt Alfred's fingers trail over his eyebrows for a moment before the drifted down his cheek, coming to rest possessively around the pendant encircling his throat.

"I like 'em," Alfred smiled brightly, obviously referring to the eyebrows. "No point in keeping something that's not a little unique, otherwise you get bored of 'em too quickly! Why I'm here tonight, actually, I heard there was a specialty seller in town, wanted to speak to her, see if she had anything that'd catch my fancy."

"Ah, you're speaking of Miss Belarus, I'd assume," the fat man replied in good humor. "She's the only female that sells merchandise in Spandow, and she has a specialty for exotic merchandise…she travels quite a lot, you see. She's a pretty little thing too, works for one of our more generous benefactors."

"I don't know her name," Alfred admitted sheepishly. "Just that she sold in Spandow sometimes, and what she sold was worth a visit."

"If you can afford it!"

"If the merchandise is worth it, I'm sure I can."

Arthur felt his blood boil as the other Owners laughed (or in the case of the women, bloody tittered) along with Alfred and forced himself to look away, knowing that any anger on his face would be taken for insolence and then their cover would be blown. Because, no matter about the damn mission, there was no way Arthur was going to let Alfred 'punish' him; his pride wouldn't allow for it and he truly did not wish to put the boy through such an experience. And no, it was not just sentimentality ruling his thinking (though it was playing a part)—Alfred was much too kind and honest to carry out such an act and not feel likely suffocating guilt afterwards. Plus, it looked like Alfred was making more progress than Seychelles or Gilbert, the former looking irritated as she fended off what looked like another unwanted advance while the latter just looked frustrated and grouchy. Arthur was not about to let this ordeal go to waste, not after suffering the outfit, the looks, and the accursed fondling.

Arthur glanced around at the club as much as the dim lighting allowed, trying to catch a glimpse of a girl he had never met before—blonde hair, porcelain skin, a black bow in her hair perhaps, those had been the details he'd been given before entering the club. He would have felt worse at having so little to work with, but Vash had never encountered Natalia, or Miss Belarus if the fat man was correct, either so he was working just as blind as Arthur. It was a small comfort. Unfortunately, he saw many people that met most of those criteria, and due to the shifting lights, it was hard to make out details or even gender. He swore silently under his breath and looked back to a darkened area of the brothel that appeared to be some sort of dance floor…though Arthur very much doubted what he was looking at constituted as dancing.

A flash of blonde hair caught his eye and he tried, as discreetly as possible (which Arthur feared was probably not nearly as discreetly as he hoped he appeared), to focus on the 'dancing' blonde. She had pale skin, and the hair was so blonde it almost appeared silver, though Arthur wasn't sure how much of that was just the light, and she was certainly dressed differently than the majority of the writhing slaves, not conservatively, but covering more of what was important than most. And there was a bow entwined in her hair, though it was hard to determine what color it was. He twitched his fingers against Alfred's side to get his attention and spoke through the pendant.

_What about the blonde dancing? Does that look like Natalia?_ Arthur glanced up and caught Alfred's eye, tilting his head towards the blonde, which Alfred followed without nearly as much subtlety as Arthur. Perhaps the boy was a decent actor, but he was still an idiot, Arthur thought (somewhat fondly); luckily it wasn't entirely out of place since the Owners often admired who they pleased overtly and there was a lull in the conversation (and by lull, he meant that the fat man and the two women Owners were otherwise engaged with their slaves and not driving the conversation). Alfred's eyes narrowed at the dancer, but it wasn't in anger or in grim satisfaction; rather, it was in befuddlement, as if he was seeing someone he did recognize but it wasn't who he was expecting. Arthur felt himself begin to ask through the pendant if that was who they were looking for or someone else when Alfred let out a very out-of-character laugh and murmured just one name.

"Feliks…"

Alfred smiled brightly and widely at the small group and gave an apologetic bow. "If you'll excuse me, ladies and gents!" Arthur had just enough time to see the expressions of surprise and puzzlement on their faces before he was being tugged around and dragged by his arm through the throng of mingling slave owners (or despicable scumbags as Arthur had taken to referring to them in his head) and silent slaves. He blinked in confusion for a moment and squashed down the instinct to struggle out of Alfred's grip, following after him and keeping his head down so he could mouth his words without notice.

_Subtle, you great buffoon. And a bit of warning next time wouldn't kill you! _

Alfred, however, did not respond to Arthur's angry scolding—if Arthur didn't know any better he'd think that Alfred hadn't even heard the words that echoed in his head. But as he must have, he obviously had chosen to ignore Arthur which did little to abate his annoyance. Still…Arthur knew the name Feliks from the story of Toris, and though he'd never seen the man, he doubted Alfred would have forgotten the face of a former crew member. Even if the man (who Arthur had been so sure looked female before) was dressed in pink, wearing a dangerously short skirt and had painted his face like a woman's.

"Feliks!" Arthur rolled his eyes and stomped on Alfred's foot as inconspicuously as possible as he was jerked to a stop in front of the blonde (who Arthur could now see was quite male, though a bit effeminate). Idiot…after all their hard work to keep unnoticed and to blend, Alfred goes and shouts out a name that if Natalia was here, she'd likely be sure to recognize. Just brilliant. "Ow…oh man that hurt…did you have to—"

"Oh wow, like I didn't expect you to be here. But, you should totally not shout out my name like that because it'd be really lame if someone heard you who shouldn't have." Good Lady…even the way he spoke was bizarre; Arthur stared at the blond man as Alfred's face went through rapid phases of realization, regret, and exaggerated acknowledgment in a manner of seconds. "Come on, it'd be stupid to like, keep talking here."

"I can't believe it," Alfred whispered to Arthur as they followed Feliks through the brothel to a secluded booth that Arthur did not want to ponder on the more common uses the nook had in a brothel. "We haven't seen Feliks in over a year…we get news from him occasionally but we're ever hardly in the same place!"

_How wonderful…and what better way to have a reunion by shouting out his name for all to hear when we're supposed to be undercover!_

"I didn't say it _that_ loud," Alfred pouted.

_I beg to differ._

"Well you didn't need to stomp on my foot! That sure wasn't what a slave would do!"

_Oh shut it, you git! If I hadn't, you would have rambled on and on and then we'd have a bit of a serious issue to deal with. I doubt these vermin would be too pleased if we were discovered having infiltrated their club._

Alfred huffed but didn't say anything as they sat down and Feliks drew the curtain around them, cocking his head inquisitively at Arthur before he rested his chin on an upturned hand and tossed his hair out of his face. "So, who is this? I would totally remember eyebrows that huge."

Arthur glared but did nothing more than cross his arms huffily (the curtain wasn't very thick and he didn't want them to look any more suspicious than usual…though Seychelles had started laughing loudly and dancing with Frances and was drawing much of the unfettered attention). Alfred gave Arthur an apologetic smile before introducing him to Feliks. "This is Arthur Kirkland. He's new, Braginski stole his—"

"His voice! Oh, I know about you…they call you a Siren, totally weirdo name, but Braginski's a weirdo so there you go." Feliks leaned across the table and stared at Arthur's neck before he blew out a breath and leaned back, twirling a piece of his long hair with a slightly melancholy look on his face. "He's like Toris, yeah? And you?"

"I guess…Tino thinks so."

Feliks nodded and looked back over at Arthur. "You're like, really lucky, you know."

Arthur glanced quickly at Alfred before he just nodded, not sure how else he could have responded. How was he supposed to respond? Oh yes, so sorry to hear that your friend was whisked away by an insane thief because he had to luck to keep the majority of his ability, forcing you to go rogue in your search for him while I happened to escape such a fate. That'd go over well, no doubt. From what he had heard (mainly from Francis and Gilbert), Feliks and Toris were closer than friends—Arthur couldn't imagine what Feliks had gone through the past few years. Arthur glanced at Alfred again and felt a highly inappropriate flutter in his stomach; inappropriate because it made him want to hold Alfred's hand, as if to make sure he didn't go anywhere, and also offer some kind of comfort to Feliks (comfort was not his strong suit).

"So…what are you doing here?" Alfred asked.

"Like, probably the same thing you are. I heard that bitch-face was going to be coming here, so I've been camping out for like a month. I totally didn't expect you to be here though! Last I heard, you were up north…you must have sailed for, like, ever to get down here so quickly."

"Is she here?" Alfred leaned forward intently, his blue eyes unusually hard and focused, not nearly as carefree as they'd been a moment before at reuniting with his old friend. "Natalia?"

"For sure, totally just arrived yesterday. Not sure why though…no one but the Twins had power that attracts Ivan in Spandow, but they've, like, already been attacked. Might just be a trip for supplies or funds, but she could still have another reason. She's getting totally crazy, you know."

Alfred snorted in agreement to the last part. "Anyone who thinks what Braginski is doing is right is more than a little crazy. Is she here, at this brothel?"

Feliks tilted his head to the side, looking at Arthur briefly once again, before fixing Alfred with a look. "Who is here with you two? I haven't spent the last month sneaking around this area to get my cover blown because you guys are all, like, trigger-happy. And, no offense, but I don't know if Mr. Siren here is any shakes at being sneaky."

Arthur bristled again and his fists clenched tight on the table, but Alfred shook his head and pushed Arthur back against the booth. "Antonio isn't here with us. It's me, Iggy here, Gilbert, Seychelles, Frances and Vash…you don't know Vash but he's cool and won't get over-enthusiastic or anything."

Arthur was a jumble of different emotions as he watched Feliks mull over Alfred's words, and only partly because Alfred's hands was still resting over one of his fists. Feliks, for all his odd speech and appearances, was deadly serious about what he was doing here, and if he decided that Alfred's presence, or any of their presences for that matter, would be detrimental to him finding Toris, Arthur doubted he'd reveal anything to them. Even though they'd been searching for Ivan for longer than he had and were undoubtedly his allies. That could only mean that Feliks was quite close to discovering where Toris was, and by proxy, where Ivan's fortress was, and Natalia was his key, which filled Arthur with excitement, worry, and bone-numbing fear. Alfred's hands tightened over his and Arthur knew he sensed all of that too.

Finally, Feliks grinned and leaned forward again. "Ok, I could use your help…but I only need him to come with me. The rest of you guys can be, like, look-outs."

Arthur's eyes narrowed in confusion as Feliks pointed his finger towards himself, and Alfred frowned as well. "Excuse me? You want Arthur to—you want to bring him with you, but not any of the rest of us? He hasn't really been with us very long and-and he was a book shop owner! And he can't even talk!"

Arthur tugged his hand away and glared at Alfred, forgetting completely that the pendant was supposed to be a secret in his anger. _What does that have anything to do with this? In case you haven't noticed, I haven't been able to speak the entire time we've been here, have I? _

"That's-that's way different! You were with me and—"

_And I'd be with Feliks! If you think I'm so useless why did I even participate in this daft mission?_

"I don't think you're useless! I just—it's not like you've been with us that long and you weren't really someone who did these kind of things before Braginski! And—what, Feliks?"

"I thought you said he couldn't, like, talk." Feliks commented lightly. Arthur felt Alfred tense beside him, his eyes darting downwards to the pendant and he swore at himself silently, crossing his arms tightly across his chest and leaning away from Alfred. He hated that Alfred saw him as so much less capable just because of his lack of voice, but what he hated even more was how much his lack of confidence hurt. The idiot…probably didn't even realize how much his words did.

"He can't…just to me. It's kinda a long story, but that's not the point! Why do you only want him to go with you? I think it'd be a lot safer if a few of us went, like three or four, that way if anything happens, we can fight our way out if it."

Feliks shook his head, the same small smile on his face. "Totally won't work, not where Natalia is. She's in the back rooms and she's not going to be heading out to the front to sell or buy…you can't storm back there with a whole group, not without alerting security. But if only two head back, say a fellow merchant, like I've set myself up to be, and a slave, looking to make a trade or deal, no problem."

"Then take Frances."

"You're like totally protective of him." Alfred flushed but didn't deny Feliks' words, just settled his face into a more stubborn expression; if Arthur hadn't been so angry, he would have found it endearing. "Look, Al, you, said it yourself, he's not useless and he can talk to you, obviously when no one else can, like hear him, and he can still use his gift, right? If anything happens, he can just tell you and use his voice if he needs to and then you can totally rescue us. It'll so work, and you know it. So, like how about it, Mr. Siren?"

Arthur nodded at Feliks in agreement (though he honestly felt quite a bit of trepidation at what he had just agreed to do) and glared at Alfred's displeased frown.

_I'm in._

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

An hour later found Arthur and Feliks walking down a dingy, low-lighted hallway in the back of the Red Garter, the sounds of the brothel fading with every echo of their footsteps, and Arthur was feeling distinctly ill with foreboding.

Alfred hadn't spoken to him since the booth, and Arthur was staring to feel tendrils of regret for how he'd reacted tug at his heart, remembering the hurt and upset look the boy had given him before he and Feliks had set off. In truth, he could understand Alfred's position and would probably have acted similarly if his and Alfred's positions were reversed; he had never been one for adventures and had led a fairly quiet life before Ivan. While he could certainly hold his own in a fight and was becoming quite proficient with a sword during the past few months on board the _Evangeline_, he would not be his first choice for a mission like this. His one advantage being the power in his voice was not something he could depend on and only seemed to crop up when the need was dire…Arthur knew all of this.

But…Alfred couldn't understand why Arthur _needed_ to prove that despite all of that, he could still be depended on and could still be trusted to get the job that needed to be done, done. Arthur wasn't even sure he could explain it anymore than he could explain why Alfred's doubt in him made him so angry or gripped at his heart so painfully; still, he supposed he had acted a bit dramatically. Alfred had honestly just been concerned about him…at least, Arthur hoped that was all. It was hard to be certain and did little to help ease the whirlwind of thoughts or emotions going through his head. Arthur blew out a silent breath and shook his head of the thoughts; they'd serve no purpose at the present and there'd be plenty of time to look at them later, perhaps when he wasn't so full of adrenaline and worry.

Feliks had been quiet for most of their journey so far, holding onto Arthur's arm and speaking only when they had needed to get past the two men that guarded the entrance to the back of the brothel. He had explained that he was acting as an emissary for an owner, or Alfred in this case, who was looking at purchasing another slave that would complement his current one, that being Arthur. It was sure to not cause any problems since Alfred had already expressed a similar story earlier and gave Feliks a reason to head back without interference, as it was common for Owners to act through merchants, according to Feliks. Arthur glanced over at the blond, at the delicate features and petite stature and found himself wondering again just how far the small man had traveled in the past years, how he had managed it on his own for so long.

"So, you and Alfred, uh? It's, like, way surprising…I never thought Al would be able to focus on anything but finding Ivan, on helping his brother. Toris and him were like really close, you know…Toris always used to tell him that he couldn't let his life be consumed by the bad, that he had to let the good in too, or else he'd be no different than Ivan. It's totally cool to see he finally took the advice."

Arthur had no way to respond, and even if he did, he'd be too flustered to, so instead he just shrugged in answer, not meeting Feliks' amused green eyes. He didn't much care for the comparison of Alfred and Ivan either; it reminded him too much of the odd and frightening fascination Ivan had with Alfred and of how angry Arthur remembered Alfred to be whenever Ivan was mentioned in regards to Matthew and how he was stuck in the middle of it. Feliks smiled brightly, not seeming perturbed at Arthur's reluctance or discomfort.

"Liet always thought Alfred was lonely, with Matthew deciding to not, like, join Alfred and all that; he'd be happy that he found someone, even if you're like totally grumpy. You love him."

Arthur did look at Feliks that time, shaking his head and mouth forming silent, nonsense protestations against the words he knew were true but was not comfortable to have them in his face so suddenly.

"Oh whatever, he loves you too…though you guys fight a lot, and I've only known you for like, an hour. It's not like either or you are good at hiding it."

Arthur looked away as he felt warmth flush his cheeks and brighten his face, frowning slightly but otherwise doing nothing more than that. He'd forgotten how utterly useless it was to argue with someone when they couldn't hear you…on the ship he had his tablet and now with Alfred he had the pendant. Against Feliks, he had nothing but his body language and it wouldn't do to punch the man in the middle of their mission, no matter how tempting.

"Look, I'm not trying to like, embarrass you or anything. It's nice, that you have each other. It really sucks when you realize how much you care after he's already gone…"

Ah…so that was it then. Feliks and Toris had missed each other when they had been together and that was why Feliks was looking for him so hard, why he was determined to search on his own. Arthur felt most of his embarrassment flee in the face of Feliks' truly sad situation—he could only imagine how it would have felt, knowing what he did feel for Alfred, if he had been taken, or vice versa, without the feeling between them exposed. But…perhaps it would be worse, Arthur mused, if he and Alfred were separated after all that had happened between them. That was much too complicated an idea to be entertaining when he had to focus on cornering Natalia…

Though, he wasn't exactly clear what Feliks intended to do if they did spot Natalia.

Feliks held up an arm in front of Arthur to stop him as they came to a bend in the hallway, pressing a finger to his lips in the universal sign to keep quiet (which Arthur though was quite redundant considering). He leaned forward slightly to peek around the corner, smiling sharply at whatever he found, which prompted Arthur to steel his nerves and glance too. He spotted an enormous pair of men speaking softly with a small, doll-like girl with pale skin, long blonde hair that looked silver, and a black bow atop her head. The girl's skin seemed to shimmer in the dim hallway and Arthur could see that her eyes were cold as ice even though he couldn't spot the color, though he knew they were blue. He knew, without a doubt, that this was Natalia, this was the woman who had diamond-like skin who had helped Ivan kidnap Toris and steal the Twin's energy.

This was a woman Arthur had spotted outside his bookshop in Britannia for weeks before Ivan had attacked, who had stepped into his store and claimed she was a traveling artist from the Nords and had bought several tourist books from his shop. A woman who he had been slightly worried might have seen him use his Voice when it slipped on accident at an annoying customer who had been mucking up his shelves that compelled him to clean up his mess, but had forgotten about until today. Shock streamed through him as he stared at her, at the woman who clearly had led Ivan to him, and he didn't notice the tall figure behind him and Feliks until a broad, weather-brown hand clapped his and Feliks' shoulders and yanked him around to a masked face.

"What the bloody hell are you doing down here?"

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Matthew Williams-Jones had never really felt comfortable with the hero-status the villagers in his town bestowed upon him because of his abilities, which even though were now stolen were still reason he was given so much respect in his small town. Alfred had loved it, but he and Alfred had always been different, sun and moon, night and day, so that was to be expected. He had not felt better than anyone else or even that his gift was all that unusual, nothing like Alfred's which could demolish forests and cities if he had been so inclined, and had always felt it was no different from his sight or sense of smell. It was just another sense, his ability to feel what troubled others, to helps them feel better with a simple touch and easing their pain. Yes, he had helped the villagers like Alfred had but still…he was by no means a hero.

Especially since he'd been blinded from his empathy four years ago.

Now he was just useless and had forced his brother to go off on a fool's errand to try and get back his gift, a journey that had already cost him his strength…well, sort of. Matthew didn't know how to explain it, but he could still sense his brother, even though his empathy was stolen; he supposed it just had to do with how close they were, that it was more integrally a part of the bond between them than the empathy had been. But it was still there and he could sense that Alfred's strength wasn't really gone…just stretched out. As if it was being shared, but that made no sense so Matthew didn't bother to explain it to Alfred. Not that Alfred was there to try and explain it too; his brother had not visited Merica in over ten months, nearly a year, and the last communication he'd had had been some four months prior, saying they were heading towards Britannia, that there was someone there who had a powerful gift that Ivan was targeting. It was not the longest he and Alfred had gone without communication, but it was enough for Matthew to worry.

Especially since it had been equally as long since he'd heard from Alejandro, who was much better at writing Matthew than Alfred. He didn't know what had happened since Britannia and he was starting to become anxious, even considering so much as traveling to Germania, since he knew Gilbert had a brother there and the _Evangeline_ often stopped there to restock and take small breaks. He had an odd feeling about the whole thing, and though he certainly wasn't any Seer like Frances, his forebodings and inklings were usually right.

"Matt! Matt, can you help Papa with the new fence today? Mama thinks he's getting old and'll hurt his back or somethin'!" Matthew turned and smiled softly at the black-haired, dark-skinned boy who lived in the neighboring house to his and Alfred's. His glasses slid down his nose as he leaned down and he pushed them back up absentmindedly, his blue, almost violet, eyes, his wavy hair falling about his face, all but a errant curl that refused to stay down. "Mama says to invite you to dinner too!"

"Well, that's very kind of your Mama, Christian. And I'd be happy to help your Papa." He took the little boy's hand and walked them both down the dirt road to his house. "What kind of fence is he setting up?"

"I dunno, somethin' for the cows. Have you heard from Alfred, Matt? Is he coming back soon?"

Matthew smiled sadly and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, Christian. It may be a while before he can come back, you know how far he travels."

"To find the Bad Man? So he can get your gift back? That's what Papa says…he says he's a hero!"

"Yes…and I'm sure Alfred would be happy to hear that. You should tell him when he visits next."

Christian smiled happily and Matthew looked back up the road and stopped, his hand tightening around the little boy's, carefully shifting him behind. The little boy's eyes went wide as he looked at the figure in the middle of the road, the happy smile slipping into an expression of wariness that Matthew was proud of…he knew not to trust strangers. This man wasn't a stranger to Matthew though, and a fear he had not felt for some time ran through his veins, made it roar in his ears. Christian needed him to be brave though, brave like Alfred, brave like their father had once been, so he took a deep breath and let go of the little hand.

"Christian, I want you to go back to my house, ok? Can you run back there for me?"

"B-but Matt—"

"Christian, go back to the house and stay there until the road is clear, all right? Can you do that?"

The little boy stared at Matthew with big eyes before he nodded and ran back to their house, Matthew watched him until he disappeared into the house before he turned back around and stared at the man with shaking hands. Ivan Braginski smiled kindly at him and clasped his hands behind his back as he walked forwards, eerie violet eyes glowing as they stared at Matthew.

"You didn't follow the boy…I am surprised."

"Leave him alone, Ivan, he has no gift."

"Gifts are not all that I must take."

Matthew's eyes narrowed slightly despite his fear, digging his feet in slightly as if to form a barrier between Ivan and Christian, knowing that Ivan referred to the boy's youth after seeing poor Lily the last time Alfred had visited Merica. Ivan just smiled wider and stepped forward calmly in measured steps, knowing as Matthew knew that he would not be able to stop the tall man if he truly was here for the boy. But Matthew knew he wasn't.

"Why are you here, Ivan?"

"I think that should be simple, _da_?"

Matthew shuddered as Ivan's hand gripped his shoulder and with the flash of a mental pipe, everything went dark.

TBC…

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*grins evilly* I hope the length of the chapter makes up for the wait time for it! Please do me the favor and review! They are the fuel that lights the inspiration for a writer and are always greatly appreciated, even though I do appreciate how many of you have alerted and favorited this.

Cheers

Osco


	12. Chapter 12

Title : Of Silence and Thievery (12/?)  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Longer chapter for you all! And we're back to the plot! All of you readers are awesome! Please let me know what you all think and remember, comments are love!

Note 2: Again, I apologize profusely for the wait! My muse left me for a bit and I had to work to get it back! This chapter is way long in exchange though, so enjoy!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_**Chapter Twelve: Where Confrontations and 'Heartfelt' Discussions Occur**_

"Quit your damn fidgeting, Hero, I'm sure Eyebrows is fine. I swear, you worry worse than a woman…"

Alfred scowled at Gilbert's annoyed muttering, wishing he could defend himself, but given how discreetly he'd have to whisper and Gilbert's refusal to read his lips, it was pointless. That was so not fair, in Alfred's opinion; Gilbert always thought he won arguments since he 'couldn't' hear his opposition's side, deeming that he was too awesome to be argued with in the first place. It was infuriating and Alfred was not in the mood for it, especially after the stupid fight Arthur had started before stupidly agreeing to go along with Feliks and his stupid plan. Alfred' scowl deepened and he crossed his arms before turning away from Gilbert; he took a glance around the brothel to make sure their little cluster was going mostly unnoticed.

Because of the idea Feliks had presented about him acting as an intermediary merchant between Mr. Jones and Miss Belarus, it gave Alfred an excuse to hang around the entrance to the back rooms. Seychelles had moved her group over as well, positioning Gilbert beside her as they chatted with Alfred, or appeared to at any rate. Most of the other patrons had long stopped paying attention to them, choosing to focus on their slaves or the brothel workers instead as the evening got later and the more drinks were consumed, but there were still guards watching and Seychelles was nothing if not a perfectionist.

One of Vash's hand kept twitching at his side, ready to reach for the weapon he had concealed under his outfit (how, Alfred did NOT want to know, Arthur hadn't been able to manage and Vash's outfit was even tighter than his), but he was draped convincingly over Gilbert's shoulders, eyes keeping watch on their surroundings without being overt about it. Francis was doing a good job at distracting anyone else who could have been paying attention to them, doing some sort of dance that made Alfred feel uncomfortable, Seychelles holding his 'leash' tight in her hand. She was turned towards Alfred, holding a drink in her hands she'd been pretending to sip off of all night, and to anyone who might have looked, she probably looked like she was trying to start a business deal. She was close enough that he could smell the scent of her hair and would get a mouthful of it if she turned too quickly.

"He's right, you know. Feliks knows what he's doing and Arthur isn't a child; he's fully capable of looking after himself." Seychelles had leant in close and whispered the words with a small, inviting smile on her lips, giving Alfred a hard look that stood apart from the flirtatious expression on her face. "He lived perfectly fine on his own for years prior to our arrival. He's not going to spontaneously combust or disappear without a say in it."

Alfred want to frown deeper but he smiled brightly instead and replied through clenched teeth. "I'm pretty sure having a 'say' in anything is one thing he doesn't have. And I'm not overreacting or worrying too much! Have you forgotten that Bra-'you know who' wants to take him, just like Tor-'you know who?' And remember that he almost did when he got separated from us in the Nords Forest!"

"No, I haven't forgotten, you dimwit, but I also don't fret over him like's a newborn child!"

"I don't fret—"

"I'm sorry to say, Mr. Jones, you do." Seychelles gave him a brief peck on his cheek, her one eye glittering in challenge, daring Alfred to contradict her. Alfred was not nearly as idiotic as everyone always seemed to think he was (he was much too awesome for that), so he wisely did not dispute her, even if he disagreed. Plus, he could see a pair of guards glancing in their direction, eyes pausing over them for a moment before they moved on to survey the rest of the crowd. His smile slipped into something dangerously close to a pout and he fixed her with a small glare when she met his eyes again, not liking how everyone seemed to think it was his fault that he and Iggy were having a, a disagreement (yes, that was a good word for it).

"I don't see you saying anything to Vash about being protective and 'fretful', and he's way worse when it comes to Lily!"

"Lily is twelve years old and has had the youth sucked out of her, making her even more vulnerable. Arthur is a grown man and probably does not appreciate being treated as an invalid." Seychelles' expression softened a bit and she patted Alfred's arms, letting her fingers run over his skin a bit slower than she usually would. "Listen, I'm not saying you shouldn't worry or that you shouldn't be annoyed with him, because I've never seen someone with as short a temper as him, but you can't expect him to always let you hold his hand everywhere he goes. He's older than you, Alfred, for goodness sakes! Think of how you'd feel if you had someone constantly hovering over you."

Alfred didn't say anything but he did huff and softly shrugged off Seychelles hand; turning slightly so he could continue to stare holes into the door Arthur and Feliks had disappeared through. He heard the captain sigh at him hopelessly before she sauntered back towards Gilbert, tugging Frances after her. Distancing herself enough from Alfred to show she'd lost interest but not moving away from their position by the backroom doors. She spoke to Frances softly before fixing Alfred with a glare, turning to talk with an especially drunk patron who'd stumbled up and was staring at Vash appreciatively. Vash's hand twitched spasmodically in response, but imminent destruction was averted when Gilbert glowered at the drunkard, convincingly possessive, and warned off the drunk.

Alfred was sure going to be happy when this whole thing was done—it was really weird to see someone as proud and loud as Vash so quiet and…not-Vash. And he had hated seeing Arthur so passive and silent; even though Arthur had been silenced, he still managed to make a lot of noise and make himself heard in some manner. The compliant doll he'd chosen to act as when they entered (though Alfred guessed a lot of that was his own way of keeping his temper which was, as Seychelles had pointed out, not the greatest) had been disturbing, more disturbing than seeing any of the others act their parts; more so than his own. He had agreed so strongly with Arthur's words earlier that something should be done here, and while he had always felt that way and thought to do something to help disband this ring, he had never felt the burning desire to do so before. Because of Arthur, because it was so wrong to see someone who was so loud and alive be made into something, else he felt that now—Alfred knew it had just been an act, but the feeling remained the same.

Alfred knew that Arthur wasn't weak or useless or whatever the hell else Arthur seemed to think Alfred thought of him, and deep down, he knew that Arthur going with Feliks had been the right decision. He could contact Alfred through the pendant and, even if they really hadn't worked out all the details on how it worked yet, he could still use his gift, his Voice, sometimes and that would certainly be enough to counter anything if it went terribly wrong in those rooms. He was smart (too much for his own good, Alfred thought at times, especially when he liked to point how Alfred was wrong which happened a lot), resourceful, and more than able to hold his own, Braginski notwithstanding, and yet still…still this odd, uncomfortable feeling that he did not WANT Arthur down there. He felt stupid for feeling so stupid and was annoyed at Arthur for causing the whole irrational feeling to start with (even though he kinda new it wasn't entirely his fault).

And he knew that Seychelles was probably right about everything, she usually was even though Alfred wasn't about to tell her that, but it was just so frustrating how Arthur would twist his words and make them mean something else! Wasn't he allowed to worry? Admittedly, he hadn't really been with a lot of people, but he was pretty sure that was part of the whole deal! That, canoodling, and definitely sex (because that had been freaking awesome); all of those were part of being with someone, not yelling at your Hero for worrying, aka CARING, about you, which Arthur seemed to like doing. He fought against the frown that he felt trying to creep up on his face; he took a deep breath and settled his expression back into the impassive smile he'd had before while speaking to Seychelles.

This was all becoming much more confusing than he thought it would be. He'd always figured that after you admitted how much you cared about someone and that you wanted to be with them everything else was just supposed to fall into place. That was how it happened in all the books he'd read, where the hero saves whoever he needed to and rode off into the sunset with his true love and everyone was happy. Maybe that was a bit naive in thinking but…but Alfred was _positive_ that Arthur was the one he wanted to ride off into the sunset with (and he had kinda thought that the grumpy mute felt the same), even if they hadn't known each other that long. It SHOULD happen like it did in the stories—they were on an adventure, hunting down evil, Alfred had already saved Arthur (and Arthur had helped him too that one time in the Nords), and they had kissed passionately! And…did _that_ passionately too!

Obviously, he needed Arthur to read how it was supposed to go…which was weird as he was a bookstore owner so should already be well read on the subject, but whatever.

Maybe…maybe he was a little bit scared about the whole thing. He hadn't ever felt so strongly for someone other than Mattie before (Braginski did not count because he was thinking about GOOD feelings here) and he hadn't known Arthur all that long and maybe Arthur didn't feel as strongly as Alfred did. He didn't really want to think about that, but he knew he wasn't Arthur's first relationship and, and he _was_ older than Alfred—maybe Alfred _was_ being a bit clingy. Maybe he was looking at what he and Arthur had 'done' from a completely different point of view than Arthur, reading something different out of what was happening between them; what if it HAD just been something to do for Arthur? Something to pass the time that he happened to enjoy but that was it? Alfred didn't really know his stance on relationships or what he looked for or anything really.

No, no it _had_ to have meant something. Alfred may not know Arthur as well as maybe he wanted to, but he knew that much; at least, he hoped he did. No, he did. Alfred felt himself worrying his bottom lip as he stared at the door, and promptly settled back into a more cool and collected face. He had started out the morning so happy…and now, now he felt like there was some kind of monster rolling around in his stomach. Dread, that's what it was and Alfred hated it and it was totally not a feeling that he should be feeling toward his relationship with Arthur. He shouldn't be feeling dread in any form, he was a hero; it was against the Code or something to feel so miserable about his new found love, he was sure of it.

Well, there wasn't anything he could do at the moment, except try and stare a hole in the door, but maybe he'd try and talk with Arthur when they were back on the hunt and the whole Brothel-disaster was behind them. Maybe...as long as he didn't get his head bitten off again for nothing. Alfred huffed to himself and crossed his arms moodily, ignoring the warning look Seychelles was glaring at him; yeah, like that was going to happen.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

"What the bloody hell are you doing down here?"

Arthur felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of him as he whirled around to stare at the body that belonged to the deep voice, eyes wide, hand immediately going for the small sword he didn't have with him (he was starting to regret his decision to agree with Seychelles hare-brained idea more and more as the night wore on). Feliks whirled with him, but was a bit more effective, whipping out a pair of daggers with practiced efficiency that spoke many years of use, angling them straight at the large man's neck. The man held up his hands and backed up a bit, smiling mockingly at the pair of them, the rest of his olive face hidden behind an impersonal white mask.

"Settle down, pipsqueak, I'm a friend, remember?"

Arthur watched Feliks breathe out in relief before he put the daggers away, glancing over at the silent man for a moment before giving the masked man a quick smile and nod. "You totally are, like, creepy Sadiq…sneaking up like that."

"Well, how else am I going to get around? Want to tell me what you're doing down here with your friend? Not the safest place for a pair of skinny blonds with no visible weapons." The masked man spoke in low tones, face tilting towards Arthur as he spoke the last bit; Arthur couldn't see his face but he was sure that the masked man was probably leering inappropriately. He scowled and clenched his fists; he was never listening to ANYTHING Seychelles suggested ever again.

"Probably, like, the same thing you're down here for."

The masked man, Sadiq, nodded and leaned in close, peeking around the corner to glance inside the room where Natalia was, a dark smile taking over his face when he saw the same pale woman both Arthur and Feliks were there for. He rolled back into their shadowed corner and rested a dark hand over the scabbard of a large, curved sword that Arthur recognized from some of his books on the Desert Lands as a scimitar; he motioned for them to be quiet (which Arthur didn't begrudge the man for, he wasn't aware he couldn't speak). There were men in the room with Natalia, some of them looked like they would have rather been anywhere besides sitting next to the diminutive blonde, and their voices were raising as they argued with her about whatever part Ivan played in their slave operations.

Natalia, as small as she was, looked every bit as imposing as the men's attitude toward her made her out to be, her legs crossed daintily in front of her and he chin resting against elegant fingers, ice blue eyes glaring at the men speaking. She radiated focus and strength and looked comfortable wielding power—Arthur had little doubt that this woman was every bit as dangerous as all the stories about her implied, even if she was a bit smaller than he had expected. For some reason, he'd been imagining a woman roughly the same size as Ivan, which was a bit ridiculous in hindsight considering how large that man was. Arthur could see the glint of a knife reflect off the candlelight in the dark room about her waist and he was sure it had seen more use than the ornate looking weapons the other men had decorating their outfits.

"I fail to see on what grounds you justify your complaints on," Natalia said calmly and quietly. Almost as one, all the other men stopped their arguing and looked over at her. Her voice was high, heavily accented, and just as cold as the rest of her. "Has Mr. Braginski not been a supporter and provider to your Circle? Has he not tired himself in making sure that your activities stay unnoticed from unwanted eyes? Has he not provided you with new and exotic creatures to brighten your collections? I hardly think a slight increase in the dues he collects from your Circle in exchange is enough for you to discount all the good he does for you. However, if you feel as if Mr. Braginski is begin unfair, I'm sure we can find more flexible partners elsewhere—"

"We didn't mean to imply—"

"Mr. Braginski has been more than generous, I assure you—"

"Miss Belarus, please accept our apologies, we did not mean to—"

"If there are no further problems with the increase in dues then, gentleman, perhaps we should move on to other matters then. I am told that some of you have new information for us in regards to those with Talents."

Arthur felt sick to his stomach as he listened to the men start to babble all at once on different people throughout the lands or within Germania who had 'unique' gifts that might interest Ivan. It made him wonder if Natalia had asked around back in Britannia and people he had lived with his entire life had either knowingly or unwittingly given him away to this woman, and by proxy Ivan, because of his 'funny' nature. Staring at Natalia from behind their shadowed corner, he felt an unfamiliar rush of disgust and anger towards the young woman, at the lives she was planning on ruining, at how little she seemed to care what it did to people like the Lovino twins or Lily. He had never truly hated anyone, including his brothers (when they were being particularly mean-spirited, of course) and Ivan, as much as he hated Natalia at that moment.

He heard the masked man behind him growl in anger, but before Arthur could really process what was happening, Sadiq let out a war-cry and leapt out from their hiding space, huge sword in hand, his dark cloak rippling out menacingly behind him. Feliks stared at the man for a moment before letting out a curse and yanking back out his daggers. He stepped forward, clearly not caring what Arthur decided to do in light of Sadiq's actions (which Arthur thought had been utterly moronic and pointless and made him seriously doubt the man's claim that he was an ally of theirs). Arthur scowled at the figures in front of him before he stepped forward, his own hands empty of a weapon as it had been impossible to try and hide anything in the outfit he was clad in (and it hadn't really been Feliks' plan to just barge in and starting yelling like a maniac…like this Sadiq fellow had; really just there to confirm she was here and then devise a plan on how to ambush her with the whole group). It didn't seem like he needed one though, as the men surrounding Natalia were dispatched easily enough by the giant man and his scimitar.

Natalia, however, looked completely unperturbed by Sadiq's appearance and the fact that his sword looked half as large as she was; she did, however, sneer at Feliks when he came into view (Arthur wondered if she even noticed him, but to be honest he didn't think he'd be too upset if she didn't). She rose gracefully from her seat, smoothing out her dress as she stood, and cocked her head at the men facing her, a hint of surprise in her eyes at seeing Sadiq but none when they landed on Feliks. Arthur felt his hand go to the pendant around his cursed throat, touching the smooth, metallic disc, feeling some security that if things took a bad turn he'd have a chance to contact Alfred at least. He didn't want to do so prematurely; giving themselves away like that guaranteed they would need to get out of Spandow rather quickly to avoid any nasty confrontations; split up as the crew was, Arthur doubted that would be an ideal situation.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, gentlemen?" Natalia asked. She didn't look bored, exactly, but definitely unworried by the uneven odds against her. Arthur didn't know whether he should feel annoyed by that or further on edge—if she had diamond-like skin, she probably didn't have a lot to fear from swords or daggers, no matter their size or strength, which rendered their weapons useless. He settled for cautious, his ever happy medium, and stepped over one of the unconscious men on the floor, trying not to draw attention to himself but also trying to be of some use. He wondered if he would be of better use going to fetch Alfred and the others, but that would most likely create a scene and in the confusion, Natalia might slip away.

Still, he wasn't sure what he could do without something to defend himself. Luckily, Sadiq solved that problem for him, pulling out a long knife and wordlessly handing it to Arthur pommel first, his dark eyes never leaving the petite woman. Unluckily though, that seemed to trigger Natalia's attention on him, her ice blue eyes narrowing as she recognized him and no doubt recognizing if he was here, who else must be here with him. He felt a bit better with the knife and met her stare—she flipped her hair over her shoulder and tilted her head slightly, the corners of her mouth curving upward in a hard smile.

"Mr. Kirkland, it's been too long. I greatly enjoyed that book on Britannia landmarks you so highly recommended, it's such a pity that you will never be able to travel to those places again in your home country as you expressed to me you so longed to do. Tell me, have you been enjoying yourself on your wild goose chase?" Her smile widened a bit and she let out a mocking laugh. "Come now, Mr. Kirkland, no need to be shy. Cat got your tongue?"

"It's like, totally lame to mock a voiceless person, you know." Feliks circled around Natalia, twirling the daggers in his hands casually as he gave her a small, mocking smile of his own. Arthur was grateful towards the odd man for the distraction; listening to her mock him like that made him want to act out, probably without care to his own well-being, which probably would not fare well against a woman who had diamond-hard skin. She found it funny, what had happened to him, what she had caused to happen to countless others. Funny. He wanted to tear that smug grin right off her face.

"Well, you'd certainly know all about being 'lame,' wouldn't you Feliks?"

"Oh wow, you're like, so funny. Really, sides splitting here."

She narrowed her eyes at his flippant response before she looked over at Sadiq, positioning her body so that she could fend off an attack from either side; she still did not draw the knife she had belted across her waist. "And you. I remember you. You're the barbarian who destroyed two of my ships in the Lowlands*."

Sadiq smiled darkly and gave a small bow of acknowledgment. "Guilty as charged. I've got some unsettled business with your master, little dog. He took something of mine and I don't take kindly to thieves."

Natalia showed true anger for the first time at Sadiq's words, whipping out her long knife fast as lightening, and Arthur swore he could see a slight glitter travel across her pale skin. "Brother Ivan is no thief, you mongrel! He is a great man who strives to create a most beautiful world for those all who follow, whether they believe in his Vision or not!"

Arthur watched as Natalia's skin shimmered again, but this time, instead of leaving skin behind, he was staring at a skin made entirely of diamonds, giving her an unnatural, ghostly appearance that made him step back in shock. He had just assumed that when they said her skin was diamond-like it meant it was just very resilient and couldn't be harmed by normal weapons, not that it actually was _made_ of diamonds. Sadiq did not look surprised, and Feliks didn't seem to care, but honestly, the woman was a solid diamond! Did they not find that the least bit problematic?

Sadiq let out a battle cry and charged Natalia—apparently they did not.

Arthur was not surprised when the large man was slammed into the stone wall with enough force to crack it and shake the foundation of the room (and likely the whole brothel), the small woman pinning Sadiq as if he weighed little more than a pound. Her eyes were dark and narrowed in hatred as she slammed Sadiq into the wall again, this time hard enough to create a small crater and split the ceiling. Feliks let out a curse and hurried over, grabbing Arthur's arms and dragging them both out of the room as Natalia shifted her focus from the dazed-looking man to the pair of them.

"Stupid oaf, always, like, mucking up everything. Can't do anything quiet." Feliks hissed, not really talking to Arthur (he was waxing philosophically on the idiocy of their new and uninvited comrade), but Arthur nodded his head in silent agreement anyway. "Be ready to run, like, fast. She's pretty pissed."

That, Arthur thought, was an understatement. However, as soon as Natalia let go of Sadiq, he lost the dazed look in his eyes and sprang out from the wall, yanking a small dagger out from inside his cloak. Natalia whirled around quicker than any normal person would have been able to, but not quick enough to dodge the strike Sadiq aimed at her shoulder, which Arthur thought was rather pointless with her being covered head-to-toe in diamonds—until the blade sank in hilt deep and she let out a piercing scream. She staggered back as Sadiq yanked the glittering blade out, looking at the masked man with such venom that Arthur wouldn't have been surprised if the man spontaneously combusted if she had a Talent that would let her do so. Sadiq chuckled and twirled the dagger around as Natalia reached up and grabbed at her bleeding shoulder, her skin gradually morphing back to its original appearance.

Natalia reached into her apron and pulled out a pouch, stepping away from them as she pulled out a small, hand-held mirror. "Return me, Brother!"

Arthur flinched and covered his eyes as a bright glare, emanating from the small mirror filled the room, forming a kind of circular hole in the very air, that when Arthur squinted and tried to look past the glare, he could see what looked like white mountains…and snow. She stepped through the hole and disappeared, the bright glare fading from the room as she did so, the hole, or more appropriately called portal, shrinking to nothing as the glare faded. Arthur hurried forward to the portal, trying to get a glimpse of something, some landmark, some feature that would tell him what land, what nation he was looking at. She was retreating home, Natalia was returning back to Ivan's stronghold and Arthur _had_ to see where that was. How long had Alfred, and before him, Seychelles, Gilbert, Francis, Vash, Ester, everyone, been looking for the stronghold but never finding it, looking throughout the world itself but never getting any closer.

And here it was. A glimpse at the place Ivan Braginski called home.

The portal was shrinking too fast though, and while Arthur wondered if he tried to hold it open enough to try and identify something, the risk that he'd get pulled through was too great and stayed his hand. It was nearly nothing by the time he reached it and he felt frustration and anger bubble up—damn it! He'd been _so _close to being able to see, to giving Alfred some kind of clue as to where they could head to finally put an end to their 'goose chase' as Natalia put it, to giving hope to the possibility he would be getting his voice back in the foreseeable future, not just his dreams, and giving the entire, horrible night some kind of purpose! It wasn't fair.

He huffed silently and glared at the nearly gone portal, eyes dark and full of anger and determination, and held up his hand, not caring that the other two people in the room were looking at him curiously. He was not going to let Natalia and Ivan get away that easily, he absolutely refused to, not after all they had done. He was not going to let their night and their mission become an utter failure. He wasn't going to let Alfred and the of his crew wander the world without a clue for another three years, always having to try and piece together the mess Ivan left in his wake. And he was not going to let something as silly as a disappearing portal stop him, not when _he_ could do something about it.

_Show me._

This could work. This HAD worked. He would make it work again.

He frowned and tried again. _Show me!_

He felt something stir in his throat, in his fingertips, and he saw the edges of the portal flicker a bit before halting their collapse. It was strange, he wasn't in peril, he was determined, but not afraid or exceedingly angry or any other 'strong' kind of emotion, and yet he could feel his Voice there, coming to him when he asked. He frowned, closed his eyes and shouted, though no one could hear it.

_SHOW ME!_

The portal flickered again before widening up until it was the size of a large window, giving Arthur a clear view of the winter landscape and mountains once he reopened his eyes. He inhaled sharply and smiled in success, not risking a glance towards his companions in case the portal closed, and scanned the landscape with eyes that knew they could identify something if he looked hard enough. He'd read every book he'd ever sold in his shop, and a lot of them had been about famous sights and landmarks in other nations; he was the _Evangeline's _navigator, he could find something useful!

And after enough looking, he found something he remembered reading about in a book detailing travelling and sights in the northern most countries; a place called Ruthenia* where it was nearly always winter and had breathtaking mountains. Including the ones he was looking at, a range that he was positive he had read about somewhere and just as positive he could find if given enough time to do so. He felt so relieved that he felt like hugging someone (given his two choices however, he prudently abstained), but he settled for smiling and letting out a silent laugh as he just sort of 'let go' of the portal and watched it close. Finally, finally they had a chance at being the one who was a step ahead—Ivan wouldn't know that Arthur had been able to get a glimpse from that portal. Even if he spied on them, or rather Alfred it seemed, (which was still quite disturbing to think about) he wouldn't be able to guess what they were up to until it was too late for him to move his base, if they were careful enough. And Arthur would make _sure_ they were careful enough.

He turned around and tried not to grin too wide at the looks Feliks and Sadiq were shooting at him; he gave them a thumbs up and motioned towards the hallway, gesturing that they should be leaving now before any of the unconscious men started to stir. Feliks followed the motion, giving Arthur a quizzical look (as he was no doubt confused as Arthur was as to how he had been able to keep the portal open when his Voice had only ever worked under extreme circumstances before) before he turned to glare at Sadiq.

"Like, what the hell is your problem? You totally messed up our chance to take her, like, prisoner with your lame 'let's go attack' plan. Gods...this is why I don't tell you where I'm, like going, you big idiot."

"Like a pipsqueak like you could've taken her prisoner. Anyway, I'm less interested in taking prisoners; you have to do all you can to cut off the head of a dangerous beast, and sometimes that means cutting off a leg to weaken it." The masked man looked, if possible, even more imposing as he uttered those words; Arthur did not doubt their validity for one moment. But, it did make him wonder what Ivan had taken from Sadiq to make him that angry; Alfred was angry at Ivan and wanted to stop him, but not kill him.

"And where did you, like, get that dagger? Is it really diamond?" Arthur frowned at Feliks' response. Yes, let's loiter and have a chat in a brothel where we've just had a fight with a dangerous villain and are surrounded by slave owners we've recently concussed. Brilliant idea. However, he was a bit interested in that dagger…now that Arthur was seeing it outside of a shoulder he could see that it was in fact made of diamonds. That certainly explained why it had been able to hurt Natalia.

"Of course it is, worked, didn't it?"

"Did you really, like, pay for that?"

"No, someone gave me a dagger made of diamonds. Moronic heathen, of course I had to pay for it!"

"You're like, totally touchy. I just asked."

Arthur growled silently and stamped his foot before he smacked both in the shoulder, motioning emphatically at the doorway and back at the unconscious men multiple times in case he hadn't been completely clear before. Or the others were too thick, one or the other. Feliks rolled his eyes but nodded and started stepping around the unconscious men, pushing Sadiq before him out the door as Arthur trailed out after. Sadiq looked down at Arthur and frowned at him as they walked down the hallway and back to the main sections of the Red Garter where Alfred and the others waited for them.

"So, you're a mute?"

Arthur shot the masked man a hard, unamused look before he tugged down the fairy choker enough so Sadiq could see the red marking around his neck, figuring that if the man harbored enough hatred toward Ivan to contemplate killing his underlings, he'd recognize _his_ mark when he saw it.

"Ah. Got something in your voice, eh? Is that what you did in there, with the portal-thing? Must be…and I bet it just tickles Ivan Braginski that you still have your Talent. Probably already made an attempt to 'collect' you, am I right? I bet he'll probably try again soon." Arthur frowned and edged away from the masked man, not liking the intent sound in the voice and the funny smile stretching across the sun-browned skin.

"Buzz off, Sadiq. He's like, totally with Alfred. Like you know, 'with him, with him.' He's not gonna join your crazy-boat and be your bait." Feliks drawled as they neared the door back to the brothel. Arthur felt red creep up his cheeks and he scowled at Feliks' back, but couldn't help but notice the way Sadiq snorted and frowned, his face, though masked, seeming to radiate disapproval at what he had heard. He shook his head and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like some sort of prayer under his breath before he settled back beside Arthur, though not as close as he had before.

Arthur was not so naïve to believe that all nations were as liberal in their social beliefs as Britannia was (barring magic of course) or many other nations were, but he had never really encountered blatant dislike on who he chose to share his bed with before. He had read many books about different nations' belief systems when he had been a boy and dreamed of having an adventure one day (if he had known then what he knew now he'd have kicked himself for wishing something so bloody stupid), wishing he could travel to a land that was more accepting of someone like him than Britannia was. But, he supposed it was to be expected; Sadiq's name and appearance, that which Arthur could see, suggested he was from one of the southern desert nations, such as Persia or Araaba, which he knew from his studies were rather, ah, strict in some of their beliefs.

No different from Britannia's view on magic and those born with Talent, but still odd to encounter when he had never done so before in his twenty-three years of life.

"Don't, like, bother with him, Arthur. He's a prissy grouch who should, after like, travelling the world for years after Ivan, should be a lot less of a prude than he totally is."

"You can shut your mouth, Pipsqueak. Just because you don't care if your soul is condemned to eternal fire for your heathen ways, doesn't mean I don't." Arthur frowned but heard humor, not hatred, in Sadiq's voice mingled with the gruff disapproval. Maybe he did not agree but he certainly didn't hate, and that was a plus Arthur supposed. "So, Arthur, back to the question. You got power in your voice?"

Arthur nodded and shrugged, trying to convey a response of "yes, but please don't press for details as I'm not really sure how it works and it's quite a pain to try and explain without a voice." Sadiq, however, did not catch onto the silent message and continued on.

"What can you do? Magician or something like that? I've never seen magicians with your coloring before. Can you command things or make things appear? Influence people? Can you—?"

"He can't talk, Sadiq, what part of that did you not, like, hear? I'm sure you can totally ask Alfred all your questions or wait until we're outta here to get your answers. Assuming you don't go and, like, disappear again."

Sadiq shrugged his shoulders and adjusted his mask as they readied themselves to head back out into the main section of the brothel, wondering if it would be at all believable that Sadiq was the new 'slave' for Alfred they had told the guard they had come here for. Arthur supposed it didn't matter; when those men regained consciousness, they'd likely blow Feliks' cover and if they were all seen leaving with Feliks, he doubted that they'd be able to keep up the farce they were all slaves and Owners. With that big sword of his though, Arthur was sure they'd be able to at least get out of brothel without incident if he went with them.

"Might be in my interest to stay. Our mute here looks like he got a glimpse at where Natalia scampered away too…I'm sure if she was injured, she didn't go too far from home."

Arthur rolled his eyes at being called a mute, but as he really couldn't deny it (and Sadiq had a VERY large sword) he ignored the gruff man. If he journeyed back with them to Ludwig's inn and gave them some additional protection while doing so, it was worth it. Maybe he had more information on Ivan's movements and latest actions than they did. Feliks briefly explained to Sadiq to act like a recently purchased bodyguard (which he merely grunted to, put did not refuse) and Arthur steeled himself as they pushed back into the main rooms. He could only hope that Alfred kept his questions until later, until they were far away from this horrible place and back where things could at least make some sense again; and after that, it was time to start hunting out where those mountains he had seen might be. Ruthenia was a big country, from what he remembered, it would take some time but he'd find them.

He had too.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Natalia was furious. No, she was beyond furious; there was not a word in any tongue that could express her wrath at what had happened in the whorehouse in Spandow and what she would do to that masked-ape once she got her hands on him. A diamond dagger, he had dared to attack at her with a diamond dagger. She'd show him what that dagger and his using it would truly cost him in the end, and it'd be more than any sack of gold could regain. Oh yes, she'd show him, and then she'd give what little there was left to her love, to her master, to her everything, Ivan. He would not begrudge her taking her punishment from the foolish Persian as long as she saved a little bit of his _life_ for him, a small token of her loyalty to him and his perfect Vision.

She dabbed at her wound with one of the staunches of gauze Ivan had given her before he'd set off in search of Toris, who could still heal better than Ivan could, even after all this time. It was wrong that Toris denied their Savior so; she didn't know how, but she knew Toris was somehow refusing to give over the full range of his power which kept Ivan from manifesting it entirely. Ungrateful wretch. Ivan had _chosen_ him, an honor and privilege to be of use to the Vision and had even brought him here to be a part of that Vision personally, and he looked on Ivan's gift as if it were garbage. Unworthy, he was unworthy of Ivan's care and attention and she would make Ivan see that someday soon. It was she alone he could rely on to trust whole-heartedly, she alone who believed in his Vision as much as he did and would do anything to bring it to pass.

But, it wasn't the time for that. She could focus on weeding out the unfaithful when their Vision had come; until then, Ivan needed her to be his eyes and sword and she would fulfill those duties to perfection. And to do so, she needed her shoulder to be healed of the terrible diamond-wrought wound and only Toris could heal wounds given of a magic nature, and as she had been stabbed while in her True form, her wound was one of magic. So she waited for the traitor and plotted her revenge against the masked man called Sadiq to entertain her. It didn't take Ivan long and he returned dragging in Toris after him, the brown-haired man looking frazzled and frightened as he met her eyes. Good, he should be frightened of her.

"You will help Sister Natalia, _da_? She is wounded and only you can help her."

Toris darted a look at Ivan before he nodded and stepped closer to Natalia's shoulder; she was sure to keep her eyes on him the entire time. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, settling his hands over her wound and after a few moments, a soft, green light began to pour out from them, slowly but surely knitting back together her shoulder. He kept his focus but she delighted in how his skin turned pale and how he rolled his shoulder as he healed her; it was a side effect it seemed of his healing, he would take on the other's pain as it was his own. It was why, Ivan said, he was so effective.

"Arthur Kirkland is in Spandow, Brother," Natalia said calmly; she didn't take her eyes off of Toris. Ivan did not respond, which could only mean he already knew, which was not uncommon. He knew most things before others. She smiled and continued on. "And that little blond fellow who like to dress in woman's garb, Feliks I think his name is. Do you remember Feliks, Brother Toris?"

Toris said nothing, but Natalia could see the way his eyes looked saddened when they opened and how his breathing was ragged for more than the healing he'd just finished. She flexed her hand and took her gaze away from Toris, rolling her shoulder and giving a satisfactory nod when it moved without pain or resistance. "I apologize for failing to bring in Kirkland when I had the opportunity Brother! I will not fail a second time, should I encounter him again."

Ivan gave a smile and patted her newly healed shoulder gently; Toris bit his lip and looked away, tears filming over his eyes, as if he was filled with guilt. Something had happened recently, in the few days she had been gone, something that made her dear Ivan happy and tormented Toris. She looked up at Ivan questioningly, hoping he would reveal to her the source of his happiness. He'd been so unhappy ever since the encounter in the Nords, it warmed her heart to see him smile so warmly again.

"All is forgiven Sister Natalia, you could not have known he was there, I had only been shown shortly after you left. You are well, that is enough for now."

"But Brother—I can return and bring you Kirkland! I promise I can do it and—"

"You will leave him be, Sister. We have other things to focus on and, in time, I believe it will be much easier to collect him, if we show a bit of patience, is that not right, Toris?" Ivan smiled benignly at the healer who could do nothing but sigh sadly and nod in response, keeping his shameful head down as he should. He did not deserve to look into the face of their master and provider, certainly did not deserve these kindnesses Ivan bestowed on him constantly. "For now, I have a new mission for you, my loyal Natalia."

"Speak it and it is done, Brother!"

Ivan smiled and trailed a finger down her cheek, lovingly Natalia knew, and motioned her to follow him out the door. "We have a new guest who must be looked after. I believe you remember Alfred's brother, Matthew, _da?_"

Natalia smiled and clapped her hands as she followed him; Toris could do nothing but stare after them both and let the tears fall when they were gone.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

*Lowlands: I envision the top most part of Africa for this

**Ruthenia- old Latin name for Russia, also known as Rus.

Please do me the favor and review! They literally fuel my creativity!

Osco


	13. Chapter 13

Title : Of Silence and Thievery (13/?)  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Sorry for the delay...this chapter was hard to write. There is a shit-ton of dialogue...it was hard to get the boys to say what I needed them to say and have it be in character. I apologize but hope this makes up for it and now that I'm past this chapter, I have a very clear view on what's going to happen for the rest of this story...and an announcement that I'm probably going to have a sequel. I love you all!

Note 2: I have had some feedback on the plausibility of the relationship of USUK here. This is my mini soapbox for why I'm writing them the way I am. Some readers don't care for how the two (mainly Iggy) go back and forth in their relationship and some think it's moved to fast. The reason why is because I wanted to examine a couple that is brought together very fast because of the situation they find themselves in and how the deal with the consequences of falling fast and hard for someone you don't fully know. Think about war-time couples: they have strong attraction to each other, care about each other, and then are thrown into high commitment due to separation and often have to deal with what it is to be a couple very fast. I wanted to look at that same dynamic but in closer proximity. I'm sorry if that's not your cup of tea, but that's how I wanted to write these two in this story...as I didn't think any other way would work as good as this one does. It's not as easy for them to be together this way, but I think the result will be more satisfying. That is all, my soap box is done ^_^

**USUKUSUKUSUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter Thirteen: Where Arthur is Run Out of Another Town and Has a Chat with Alfred_

Leaving the brothel was not nearly as hard of a task as sneaking in had been; whether it was because of the size of Sadiq's sword or the fact that most of the patrons were too drunk to care, it was something Arthur was extremely grateful for. They were careful to exit in intervals, but other than that, the guards at the doors seemed to be too distracted by intoxicated slaves and the different 'activities' they were engaging in with each other and their masters to really notice their departure. Arthur counted it as a blessing—once those owners in the back room woke up, he was sure they would have to leave quickly before they were recognized in the city. At least this way they'd have a bit of a reprieve (or at least enough time to change out of the ridiculous outfits) until morning.

Yao seemed to be expecting them already, which was odd but Arthur had decided it was not worth the effort to wonder how the man seemed to always know what was going on, and motioned them over to where Esther's group was already waiting. Rosa was tugging at her top in annoyance and Alejandro just looked unhappy (or, at least, more unhappy than usual), leaving Esther to fix a hard glare on Alfred's group and hiss out their success. "I hope you had more luck than we did—our little venture was an utter waste of time."

"Not to mention you nearly gutted half the men there, _Corazon_," Rosa grouched.

"Those pigs were not men, they would have deserved their deaths!"

"Hush." Yao's voice was lower but commanded their attention, his dark gaze fixing on Esther's furious countenance. "Now is not the time for these words. You would be wise to wait until you are under a friend's roof to discuss the night."

Seychelles gave an authoritative nod and motioned for their crew to follow Yao, silently, shaking her head sharply when Rosa noticed the additions of Feliks and Sadiq and tried to ask what they were doing there. Alfred made the motion to grab Arthur's hand as he followed, but he hesitated, his face marred by a frown, and let it fall away instead. Arthur felt an awkward sort of heat settle in his stomach as he walked beside the taller man, still feeling annoyed at how Alfred consistently seemed to think that Arthur was helpless due to his handicap but also feeling a bit ashamed at how harshly he had snapped at him. He felt his hand twitch as he contemplated reaching out to hold Alfred's hand himself, but paused—it would probably be best if they discussed things first.

Still, Arthur hated that expression on Alfred's face, the sad, angry expression that he knew he'd put there (but he really had deserved the scolding, why the blazes was he feeling guilty over this?). A tense silence, completely separate from the quiet hush over the crew, formed between him and Alfred; it made his skin prickle in discomfort, made him curse the whole, damnable plan again, and made him feel like disregarding all notions of pride and apologizing for something he shouldn't. Lady above, there were the reasons he'd steered clear of emotional attachments for so long—he clenched his hands into tight fists and tried to think about something else. Something other than the quiet between them that was practically screaming at him (screaming silence, oh that was just brilliant).

He tried to think about what he'd seen in the low-lit backroom of the brothel, of where Natalia had disappeared to and if he could remember where the mountains he'd seen was. He recognized it being Ruthenia, from the snowy landscape and the mountain formations, but Ruthenia was a bloody large country and he knew he'd seen that peak somewhere specific before in his readings. A mountain that large had to have its own name and history—nothing came to him though and he had to resign himself to trying to find what he'd seen in his books. He sneaked another glance over at Alfred, frowning deeper when he saw the troubled glare the younger man had fixed on the ground. Arthur groaned silently and reached out to touch Alfred's arm; this was ridiculous, honestly.

_You can quit your sulking now. _

Alfred started and looked over at Arthur before he frowned deeper and turned away, jerking his arm out of Arthur's touch—Arthur felt a swell of surprise and hurt at the action before he pushed ahead and grabbed Alfred's arm again. _There's no need for that! Quit acting like a child—everything went fine, didn't it? Certainly not the disaster you predicted at any rate. _

Alfred grumbled something under his breath that didn't sound very nice but was shushed by Seychelles; he still wouldn't look at Arthur. Oh this was wonderful—Alfred acted like a completely, irrational boar in the brothel and once again proved how little he apparently thought of Arthur's capabilities and now _he _was acting like he'd been the one wronged because Arthur proved him mistaken! _Fine then, skulk all you like! It's certainly becoming of you!_

His insults went unacknowledged, which only made Arthur feel more upset and angry at the whole situation. He glared at Alfred before he stomped ahead to walk with an equally annoyed looking Vash, who spared him a glance before focusing his own scowl forward again. The rest of the way back to Ludwig's inn went without a peep, but the moment they stepped into the inn and Yao closed the doors behind him, words started exploding everywhere. Ludwig and Antonio were still awake and waiting for them but the twins and Lily were nowhere to be found; it was awfully late though Arthur thought as he studied the quiet of the inn. They were probably asleep—which was for the best as Arthur doubted Vash would have wanted his baby sister to hear the profanity that started spilling from his mouth as he entered the inn.

While Vash ranted and stomped away, grabbing a bundle of clothes from Antonio's arms, everyone else seemed to round on Sadiq and Feliks; Arthur was spared as Kiku came out and handed him his own bundle of clothing, which he hurriedly grabbed and shuffled towards his room upstairs to change. He needed to grab his tablet anyway; he was sure when he went back down he'd have to face his own interrogation about what he'd seen and how he was able to use his gift. Arthur could hear Vash murmuring softly down the hall when he made it to the stop of the stairs, no doubt assuring a sleepy Lily that everyone was fine, before he entered his room and quickly began stripping off the offensive clothing he'd been stuck in all night. He could make out bits and pieces of the conversation downstairs, could hear Sadiq's loud voice explain about his dagger and Gilbert tell him what an idiot he was while Rosa exploded into a string of foreign curses when Feliks explained that the Circle was helping Ivan locate other people with Talents.

He dressed in the much more sensible clothing without hurry, the strange sense of sadness and shame welling up again as he glanced around and spotted all of Alfred's belongings in the room as well. He felt dread curl in his stomach at the thought that he and Alfred would be stuck here together later—or even worse, that Alfred wouldn't even want to be around Arthur and would go somewhere else. He groaned silently and sat down on the bed, gripping his hair in between his hands as conflicting emotions swarmed him; it was hard to imagine that a scant day and half ago he and Alfred had slept together and had been happy (they had been happy, hadn't they?). But, he should have expected it, because honestly, what the hell had he been thinking? He had just-just _thrown _himself at the young man and bloody well slept with him on a whim, all mixed up in anger, arousal, and the warm feeling of Alfred's touch on his skin and not even thinking about what would happen afterwards.

He had more sense than this, he thought to himself harshly. He had more sense than to just leap head first into something without thinking it through; yes, he was attracted to Alfred, and yes he bloody well cared (all right, _maybe _loved him which just made it all the worse) for the moron but—but it had all been mucked up now, hadn't it? Arthur blew out a sigh and jerked back to his feet, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles in his clothing as he did so. He was having the same exact argument with himself again and it wasn't helping anything. There was no changing what had happened, it was done and Arthur, as much as he felt he should, couldn't find it within him to truly regret his actions (though he did think he'd been bloody stupid for not having a more in depth conversation with Alfred afterwards…). No, all that he could do was sit the bloody prat down and try to work out what hell had happened between them in such a short amount of time.

Yes, yes that seemed the best path to follow.

Arthur took a deep breath, grabbed his tablet and quill, and headed back downstairs; Vash had already rejoined the group and everyone else was still in their costumes. He tried not to look too uncomfortable as everyone's eyes seemed to swing towards him, or at how Alfred came forward with a wild, excited look in his eyes, eyes practically glowing in zeal. It was nice to know that whatever was going on between them could be forgotten so easily in the wake of anything to do with Ivan. Arthur knew that thought was a bit bitter and he should understand that Alfred would understandably be excited about being able to actually _find_ Ivan instead of chase him…but he couldn't help it. Gods above, he was sick and tired of feeling so tangled up over every little thing. First he was upset that Alfred was angry at him and now he was upset that he wasn't? He would have considered stomping on his own foot for his foolishness if everyone wasn't looking at him.

"You saw where Natalia escaped to? You used your Voice?" Alfred looked as if he was about to grab Arthur and shake him in his excitement but thought better of it when Arthur glared at him. "You haven't used your Voice since the Nords though, and Feliks said that you did it after she'd already escaped—"

"Man alive, give him some room, Alfred," Seychelles muttered. She shook her head and stepped forward, looking just as eager as Alfred, though her eye looked slightly less manic. "Did you recognize any of the terrain, any distinguishing landmarks?"

"I didn't think he could use his gift, that he couldn't speak…" Antonio looked puzzled where he sat beside Francis (who appeared to be sleeping, the git) and kept glancing around as if someone would answer his question.

"What did you see?"

"Did you actually see Ivan?"

"It was a castle, right? That freak would so hide out in a castle!" Arthur raised his eyebrow at Gilbert's comment but did little more than that. Everyone was asking questions, talking over each other, making Arthur's frown deepen in response; he rolled his eyes and scribbled on his tablet.

**It was Ruthenia. **

There was a blissful moment of silence before the room exploded once more (Esther went as far as to throw an empty glass at a wall in frustration which brought Ludwig into the argument).

"That country is huge and you can't even sail to most of it due to how far north it is!"

"I told you all, I told you that it was foolish to search by ship!"

"Hey, my ship's gotten us where we needed just fine!"

"Where would we even start? And how would we get up there?"

"Ruthenia…wonderful. Of course that ass picks the most snow-ridden country there is."

"That's where Ivan is from, it's logical that's where he would feel most comfortable." Yao's words were soft but echoed in a manner that everyone seemed to hear; the shouting quieted down and all eyes shifted to the merchant. Yao gave a polite smile and nod as he stepped closer to the group. "I've long suspected that might be where he has returned to, but as it's a large nation, did not wish to act without some sort of proof, some direction to head. Mr. Kirkland, did you see something that would give us an idea on where to look?"

Yao made a gentle motion with his hand for Arthur to go ahead; he wrote down his response as concisely as he could. **There was a mountain, it looked familiar.**

He started to try to write more, but the room was already grumbling that Ruthenia was full of mountains and this didn't help them at all; he huffed, swallowed his pride, and placed his hand on Alfred's arm. Alfred looked down, the excitement at being able to hunt down Ivan more thoughtfully still there, but echoes of his previous mood were returning, as if Arthur touching him reminded him that they were still fighting and that he shouldn't be nice to the older man. Arthur gripped the arm tighter when it tried to pull away and narrowed his eyes at Alfred.

_Quit acting like this and belt up! I need you to tell them out loud what I saw; it would take too long to write it down. Can you do that?_

Alfred frowned but nodded—Arthur wanted to try and give a grateful smile in reply but all he managed was a jerky nod and sweaty palms. _Thank you. Tell them the mountain I saw was very large and distinctive, one I know I've come across in my readings somewhere. There was snow, so wherever it was, it would have to be at a certain elevation to have snow at this time of year. Also, wherever this hide-away is, it's likely on the western most border as they are able to keep close track on Spandow…if Natalia was getting information on other Talents from some of the owners, I doubt they would be able to keep such close track if they were based in the Sibers of Ruthenia._

Arthur could feel Alfred tense under his hand at his last statement, but he merely gave a short nod and relayed Arthur's message to the group. There was more blessed silence before civilized murmuring began, Esther and Sadiq tossing out possible places along the western border it could be, as their homelands were nearer to Ruthenia than most of the others, Antonio speaking excitedly to a sleeping Francis and a skeptical Feliks, Seychelles already planning out possible routes they could take with Kiku and Rosa (Alejandro was actually smiling, which was bizarre to see). Arthur glanced over at Alfred and met his stare solidly.

"How _did_ you use your Voice?"

_I don't know—I just…did. I didn't want to miss a chance for information we could have used. I obviously still cannot speak aloud but—but maybe that isn't necessary…_

Arthur trailed off and shrugged; he wasn't sure now was the time to start questioning why he could use the Voice outside of life-threatening or extreme circumstances. He wasn't sure he even wanted to think about it (no doubt he'd be forced to though, damnable conscious). Alfred stared, sighed and then shrugged out of Arthur's hold and headed over to where Feliks stood near the door. "So, I think we've got a game plan, right? We head toward the western border of Ruthenia by ship, try to figure out what mountain Arthur saw and then plan an on-foot expedition the rest of the way!"

"And we should do so soon—thanks to our darling Sadiq here, I'm sure some of those Owners are going to be looking for anyone who had dealings with Feliks or who may not have belonged in their brothels last night. I'm sorry, Ludwig, we may have caused you a bit of a headache with all this." Seychelles flashed an apologetic smile towards the innkeeper, who shrugged and gave a tightlipped nod.

"I can handle it—if it helps Feliciano and his brother the price is small."

Seychelles gave him a warm smile before she swung back around to her crew, her eye focusing on Sadiq and Feliks. "I already know you can't join us Antonio, but what about you two?"

Sadiq shrugged, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword as he gave the crew a brief once over. "Seems I'd be a fool not to; you're heading my same direction, might as well get a ride out of it."

Seychelles nodded and cocked an eyebrow at Feliks. The blond smiled and shook his head. "I can, like totally go faster on my own, no offense or anything."

"But Feliks—"

"Thanks but no thanks. You'll be, like, fine without me."

Arthur could tell that some others wanted to argue the point, which was understandable as he'd been a member of the crew for a long time prior to Toris' kidnapping (and Arthur seriously doubted the petite blond would be any use against Ivan and his supporters all on his lonesome), but he glanced back over at Alfred and made up his mind. Seychelles could work with the details about who was going and who wasn't and all that rot; he needed to have a chat with Alfred _now_. He strode over, grabbed Alfred's arm, and began dragging him away, heedless of his surprise or his pouting protests; talk paused for a moment as he forcibly pushed the young man up the stairs but resumed just as easily as they made it to the top of the stairs.

"Arthur, what the hell! That's important stuff going on downstairs!"

_It's nothing that you need to decide, it's not your bloody ship._

"So? I'm the leader, aren't I? That means I have to be down there for all important talks and-and stuff!"

_You are going to have an important talk! You're going to talk about why you've an utter and complete prat tonight and why exactly you feel the need to treat me as if I'm a child!_

Alfred winced a bit (Arthur had mentally shouted those words after all) and shook his head as Arthur shut the door behind them (okay, slammed the door); he didn't look at Arthur, rather, he stared at the floor moodily. "Yeah, because I'M the one who's been a total jackass tonight when it was you who kept insulting me and calling me stupid and being a jerk when all I was trying to do was look out for you."

_I don't bloody well need you to look out for me, Alfred! I'm a sodding adult!_

Alfred looked up sharply at that and glared hard, his fists clenching at his sides; Arthur felt his breathing pick up slightly at the sight and even more so when Alfred advanced on him. Arthur didn't budge (even if maybe he wanted to just a little…personal bubble and all) and met the angry look with a stony stare of his own, refusing to back down just because Alfred happened to be a bit taller (and had the inhuman strength from time to time). Alfred's glasses slipped down his nose a bit, which allowed Arthur a perfect view of hard, flinty blue eyes that hid nothing behind them.

"Well, forgive me for giving a shit! Next time, I'll remember that and let you go off and do whatever stupid thing you wanna do without a peep, how's that?"

The anger that had flooded him the moment Alfred had started arguing with him dimmed at the undercurrent of hurt Arthur heard in his voice, at the way the blue eyes pinned him and made him feel wretched for putting that uncertainty and anger there. He took a deep, shuddering breath and dropped his gaze, feeling years older and tired all of a sudden, hating that they were still fighting instead of talking—hating that Alfred had a point. _I don't want to fight, all right?_

"Then why did you drag me up here and start yelling at me?" The raw emotion was a smaller echo of before, but he still sounded none too happy with Arthur. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was looking at Arthur sullenly, just as uncomfortable as Arthur was; Alfred huffed and cocked his head to the side, obviously expecting Arthur to really answer his question (Arthur had been hoping it'd been rhetorical…though he doubted Alfred could really grasp the subtlety of rhetoric anyway).

_I didn't—it's just frustrating and I—this isn't going at all how I wanted. _

"Yeah well…ditto for me too." Alfred's voice was low and rough and made Arthur look up sharply. Alfred wasn't referring to their little 'talk,' Arthur could tell; he felt a rush of something like panic for a moment before he shook his head and cautiously grabbed hold of the young man's hand. Arthur tried to meet Alfred's eyes, tried to communicate that way (as he'd obviously failed with words) how he was incorrect, that he shouldn't feel that way, that it could very likely crush him if he had already driven the younger man away (proving every one of his brothers right again). Alfred took his time but eventually he raised his gaze to look at him, really look at him before he sighed and squeezed Arthur's hand back.

"What is this, Arthur, I mean, what do you want out of this? I mean, I thought that—I mean, I still think that—aw dammit, I can't say it right." Alfred shook his hand free of Arthur's and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. He took a deep breath and reopened his eyes, shooting Arthur a look that was less angry and more uncertain. "I thought that you wanted to give, you know, 'us' a shot but all I seem to do is bug you and make you mad. I mean, you practically bit me head off back there and all I was doing was looking out for you, you know, _caring_. That's what you're supposed to do…"

_Yes you are but—Alfred, it's not that you care; it's that you don't seem to think I'm capable of doing anything unless you're there with me._

"But I don't think that! I don't know why you always keep thinking that I think you're useless, it's obvious you're not…I mean, without you we wouldn't have found out about Braginski's base in Ruthenia or even have the possibility of discovering exactly where it is!"

Arthur felt a small smile tug at his lips at Alfred's outburst, knowing that every word the young man said was sincere (the boy was obscenely honest…not trace of tact or guile at all, but Arthur had to admit it was an endearing quality). Deep down, Arthur had known that Alfred didn't think he was useless, that he was being overbearing out of good intentions rather than bad, but it still felt nice to hear it so plainly. Made it easier for him to say what he needed to say, even if it was bloody embarrassing.

_I know, Alfred, I do. But I've lived on my own for most of my life and have survived just fine with whatever troubles came. Not being able to speak is a hardship, but not something I can't deal with or haven't adapted to._

"So you'd rather I ignore you if you want to do something stupid? Pretend I don't care because you've 'adapted' to not being able to talk? And it's not exactly the same…back in Britannia you didn't have some maniac after you."

Arthur exhaled sharply and too another deep, calming breath; Alfred was not making this easy, stupid blighter. _That isn't what I'm saying so stop twisting my words around! Just-all right, imagine for a moment that I told YOU that you couldn't accompany us on a mission because of your lack of strength, that it was too dangerous for you to come and you had to stay here and keep safe. That you couldn't help those you-you cared about and had to watch them risk themselves, in part, for you…how would you feel?_

Arthur watched Alfred as the younger man mulled over his words, watched how the eyes went a bit unfocused and how a frown formed in between his eyes and let out a sign of relief when he saw understanding dawn in his expression. "Bad...like I was useless, I guess."

Alfred blew out a noisy sign and mumbled at Arthur, his eyes dropping back to the floor. "I—I wasn't meaning to do that. So, so yeah, sorry."

_I know you didn't—and I suppose I apologize for losing my temper with you when you're just trying to help. I never meant to make you feel as if I—that I don't—oh bother, what I mean to say is that what we did wasn't—_

"I think I got it, Iggy," Alfred interrupted with a small grin. "I mean, I do have it, right? You really do like me and-and all that, right?"

Arthur couldn't stop the warm flutter in his stomach at the words, or small smile that flit across his face at the painfully hopeful look on Alfred's face. _Yes you fool. _

"Oh, well that's great…why do you still seem mopey though?"

Arthur took a deep breath and steeled himself. _I think that, despite the fact we—perhaps we should take a step backwards for a time and try to—_

"What? But-but we apologized and everything's fine now! I get why you were so upset and I'll definitely try not to be so overbearing and you won't have to yell at me so often and-and you said that you DO want this so—why do you want to stop?"

_If you would let me finish you would know I do NOT wish to 'end' things with you! I just—I think it would be best if we perhaps took thing a bit slower. Actually get to know one another and all that._

"Oh. But I already know a lot about you and you know about me…so why do you—?"

_Because this whole thing is utterly daft, that's why! We met a little more than five months ago, we're in the middle of some high-seas adventure where emotions run higher than usual and I have no ruddy clue whether what I feel, what YOU feel, is little more than what circumstances surrounding us have brought about!_

Alfred frowned again before he reached up tentatively and brushed his fingers past Arthur's cheek and tangled in the hair at the back of his head. "Sorry, that was kind of confusing—are you worried that I don't care enough because that's stupid and totally not true."

_No—I wonder if you or I will once all this is over._

"Over? Like-like once we get your voice back and stop Braginski? That's what you're worried about?"

Arthur didn't move or say anything for a moment before he gave a small nod, his eyes darting away from Alfred's to study a stain against one of the walls. Alfred gave small chuckle and gently turned his gaze back, undeterred by the unamused glare Arthur gave him for laughing at his inner-most concerns. His smile was soft and genuine though, a faint dust of pink coating his cheek and ears and it made Arthur's annoyance fade into nothing. "I don't know about you, but I'm not really the kind of guy to just fall for someone; I'm not Francis or anything. I've never, I mean, I've never really felt about anyone what I feel about you, and it has nothing to do with us hunting down Braginski. I don't think it's going to just go away because we get back what he stole and our quest ends."

_You're young, Alfred, you don't know—_

"You're not that much older than me, even if you act like a grouchy old man. I know it's not going to just go away, there's no way it could, there's no way I'd let it." Alfred bit his lip as the hand at the back of Arthur's neck traveled forward again, his fingertips trailing softly against his cheekbone. Arthur felt his breath hitch and he couldn't bring himself to look away or swat the intimate touch away. "And-and I don't think it'd be that easy for you either. This is all pretty new and confusing for me too, you know, but-but I _know_ that it's stronger than that and that you can feel that too."

Alfred's fingertips drew away (Arthur certainly did not whimper at their loss…but all the same he was actually glad for his silence for once) and he stepped away with them, giving Arthur a bit of space and looking terribly nervous about it. Arthur felt as if they'd just been kissing instead of talking, all shaky and warm—Alfred's words like a soothing balm against all the doubts and worries itching at his skin. He closed his eyes and attempted to collect himself, even as he heard Alfred continue to speak, continue to tempt him away from his perfectly logical plan. "Maybe you're right, maybe we shouldn't have just rushed into everything the way we did but—but I'm not gonna change my mind, Arthur. I'll tell you that right now and every day if you want me to."

His words were so incredibly naïve and ignorant of the world, and yet Arthur found himself wanting to believe them, found that he did believe them and could feel the truth of those words echo within himself. He reopened his eyes and met Alfred's insistent stare; there were a million and one reasons why he should refuse and stick to what he had originally proposed, Arthur had gone through most of them. Still—maybe Alfred was right too. Heavens knew that Arthur did feel every bit as strong as Alfred guessed he did, and even though he hadn't had Alfred in his life for very long, he could no longer imagine it without the obnoxious git, without his smiles, his laughs, and his utterly ridiculous ideas that never made any sense. And while it was frightening that he couldn't imagine his life without Alfred, it was even more frightening that Alfred wouldn't be there.

_All right._

"Uh, 'all right' what?" Arthur shook his head and touched Alfred's shoulder. " All right like you're agreeing with me or all right like you're just trying to get me to shut up or all right like something else?"

_Just all right, love. All right?_

Alfred heard the endearment and his smile grew across his face, spread into his eyes and every movement of his body as he crushed Arthur to him in a stronger-than-normal hug; Arthur pressed a small, tired, but honest smile of his own into the skin of Alfred's neck, feeling exhausted and drained. It was close to dawn though and they'd had quite a few busy days—it was all right to be tired and rest against Alfred for a moment. "So, this means we can still touch and stuff, right? No avoiding or awkward dinners on the ship? Slow down and stuff, but no screeching halt or anything, right?"

Arthur rolled his eyes but leaned away to give Alfred his smile, pressing it to the other man's lips in response. Things were still muddled a bit and none of what they were doing made an ounce of sense really, but as Alfred kissed him back, he found that his doubts weren't as important as what he knew, what he felt with Alfred. They kissed and held each other until they fell asleep, things not perfect between them, but on the same page at least; and that was always a good place to start.

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It was quiet now outside the inn, the dark of night fading away as the dawn began her slow approach. Yao was alone and watching the stars in the sky wink down when Kiku found him, his deceivingly youthful face bright and beautiful in the fading moonlight. Kiku felt a small tremor of anger stir in him at the sight but he pushed it aside as he stepped outside to join the merchant, determined to not let his own issues with the man cloud his purpose. Yao flashed honey brown eyes over at him and gave a smile, his long hair spilling over his shoulders in a fall of brown. Kiku did not smile back, but gave a small nod of acknowledgement as he moved to stand beside Yao.

"It is a beautiful night," Yao began. Kiku suppressed an annoyed sigh at how predictable Yao Wang could be after so many years. "My heart is glad that you have decided to share it with me."

Kiku still did not speak but gave a more pronounced nod at the older man's words; his tail was alert and his ears flicked back and forth atop his head as he attempted to remain calm and polite. Yao gave a shake of his head and a sad smile overtook his face as he turned to face Kiku fully. "Speak what you came out here for, I know you did not join me to humor an old man's faded wishes."

"How much did you have to do with the pendant the Fey gave to Arthur-san?"

Yao gave a quiet chuckle before holding up his hands before him beseechingly. "Would you believe me if I said little, if anything at all? I did not even know they had given it to him until he sought me out to ask on it…I'm afraid the only part I played was speaking with young Alfred, which allowed him to wander off on his own. Not the answer I'm sure you wanted."

"Did you tell them we were coming?"

"I have not scryed for many moons, Kiku. I had no knowledge that you were coming here until you arrived. I am sorry, but I had little to do with the agreement Arthur Kirkland made with the Fey in exchange for that pendant. However, I would not worry about it too much—the fairies he met with seemed rather taken with the young man, I doubt they meant any harm."

Kiku nodded but did not agree. He knew of the Fey, he knew that even though they lived within the Light, they were ruthless and without pity in protecting their domains…in protecting the Earth which they nurtured as their own child. He had little doubt that they would do whatever was necessary to protect that child, no matter any fondness they may have for an individual along the way. And Yao knew of this, having been familiar with the Fey for even longer than Kiku; Yao likely sensed Kiku's thoughts and gave a reassuring smile Kiku found no comfort with.

"You worry too much, Kiku. I would not lie to you." Not deliberately, Kiku thought silently. "I am happy for you, Kiku, happy that you have grown so close with these people. I know Feliciano's attack upset you and it has been hard to leave him and Ludwig, but I can see that you have found what you have always wanted. The family you could not find with me."

Kiku was unsure how to respond so he merely gave a small smile and nodded his head in agreement. "Thank you. It was hard to adjust after I left you, but I have found purpose once again with Alfred-san and the others."

Yao nodded in understanding. "And how is your newest member fitting in? I understand that Britannia is quite different in their beliefs than anywhere the rest of you are from."

"Quite well, thank you for your concern. I suspect Alfred-san plays a large part in that, which I'm sure you've noticed."

"Oh yes!" Yao laughed as he cocked his head to the side. "Young love, it's always wonderful to see the beginnings of it bloom between two people. I assume you weren't surprised?"

Kiku couldn't help the smile. "We all could see it between them, long before either of them realized—they have a, ah, a chemistry that would result in them hating one another or falling together. They are good for one another; Arthur-san, I fear, did not have a very happy life in his homeland with his need to conceal his power. With us, he is learning what it is to be accepted, but it is Alfred-san who makes the most difference, whose acceptance has the most impact. And it is nice to see Alfred-san so happy again, not only focused on his retribution against Ivan; Arthur-san makes him happy, reminds him he is young and must live not only for revenge."

Yao hummed and clasped his hands behind his back. He smiled wide at Kiku and looked up at the dark sky, his eyes slipping closed, his hair falling away from his face completely. "I am happy then for them. I can tell that you are as well, I had no idea you and young Alfred were so close, but he's a good boy and a good friend to have. If a little on the obnoxious side."

"Yes…I care for Alfred-san as a brother and wish only for his happiness. I will not tolerate anything, or anyone, who attempts to destroy that happiness, no matter the reason. Do you understand, Master Yao? Anyone; especially old men who would do anything to fix their mistakes." Kiku's eyes were dark and firm when he met Yao's gaze, the slender man's expression one of sadness; Kiku did not allow it to sway him. He gave Yao a curt nod and began to head back inside before the sun truly started to peak over the horizon, but Yao's soft, sad words caught him, despite how much he wised they didn't.

"It pains me that you would think so little of me, my dearest Brother; I yearn for the day when that changes."

Kiku could not say he felt the same so he did not respond and headed back into the inn, leaving the old fool outside with his regrets and stars. The day he trusted Yao Wang's honeyed words again would be a long time coming—he had promised himself that, all those years ago and he would not fail all those he protected with that promise. He closed the door to the inn softly behind him.

TBC…

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Review please? Your feedback is all wonderful!


	14. Chapter 14

Title : Of Silence and Thievery  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: I love you all! And, a shout out to reviewer GintaxAlvissForever who rec'd this story on TVTropes website! Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Note 2: There is a resource post for this story now, which includes a wonderful map Coma White X made pretty for me! Go and check it out at my livejournal and give her thanks!

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_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter Fourteen: Where There is a Lot of Sailing and a Lost Love (but Not Arthur's)_

It seemed like no time had passed from the time Arthur's head had hit the pillow to when he heard pounding on the door; he blinked his eyes open and glared at the offending noise, Gilbert's muffled voice shouting for them to get up and get ready through the wood. Alfred groaned from beside him and threw a spare pillow at the door, mumbling at Gilbert to go away and that they'd be down in a few minutes. Arthur cursed and dragged himself out of bed, grabbing a spare tunic and vest as he shuffled towards the washroom, his body heavy from exhaustion. They had got in well after midnight and then he and Alfred hadn't been able to get to sleep for a time after that, and now Arthur could just barely see dawn poking over the horizon. It had been a busy few days and his lack of sleep seemed to have finally caught up with him; he felt wretched.

He didn't bother doing more than scrubbing his face clean and changing into a fresh shirt; when he walked back into the room, Alfred was still snoring and had cocooned himself in the covers. Arthur spared a brief, affectionate smile at him before he sat down on the bed and pulled on his boots, smacking the sleeping man with one before putting it on; Alfred jolted awake with a loud, incoherent jumble of words before he blinked sleepily at Arthur. Arthur raised an eyebrow and pointed at the door before he slipped on the pendant. _Are you planning on leaving with the ship or will you be meeting us at the next port?_

Alfred blinked again before his eyes widened in realization, scrambling out of the bed with a curse (he tripped on the comforter before he was actually able to get free though, which was quite funny) and rushing into their small wash room. He was out in a moment though to grab a fresh set of clothes; he slammed the door harder the second time with a grumpy mumble and Arthur couldn't help but find it funny that for someone who was generally such an obnoxious and chirpy personality in the day time was such a boar in the morning. He went about tidying up the room a little and making sure that their belongings were at least haphazardly packed away into their bags while Alfred was busy. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the state of a pair of Alfred's socks and decided it would be best to just throw those away (why on Earth would you keep a pair of hole-marked socks that looked like they might be growing mold on them?).

Alfred walked out of the washroom a few moments later, looking much more awake and disgustingly handsome despite the fact that he'd not had a bath in a few days, a bright smile on his face when he saw Arthur packing up his things. "Aww, you didn't need to do that for me, Iggy!"

Arthur felt his cheeks go a little red but he ignored it in favor of giving Alfred a frown and shrugging his shoulders imperiously. _Well, you were busy, weren't you? Lazing about in bed…we'd be late if I hadn't taken the liberty of cleaning up after your mess!_

Alfred gave a small laugh and crouched down, taking his bag from Arthur's grip, his fingers brushing against Arthur's knuckles for a moment before straightening back up. "We wouldn't have been late and it was a nice thing to do. You don't need to pretend to be mean just because you're doing something nice, you know. Most people just say 'you're welcome!'"

Arthur felt his blush grow more at the teasing but he softened his glare and managed a small smile as he rose to his feet, his own bag slung over his back and his tablet in hand. _Well—I suppose you're welcome then, prat. _

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

_Oh shut it, you wanker._

Alfred smiled a little wider and leaned in close, pressing a kiss to the side of Arthur's head. Arthur leaned up and returned the kiss on Alfred's mouth giving the taller man an affectionate look as they both started to make their way out of the room. Arthur didn't want to jinx anything (because he could admit that his luck had not been the best recently) but everything had seemed to work itself out of the muddle and Arthur could not have been happier about it. They had actually accomplished something besides frustration in coming to Spandow and now had a physical goal in mind. They had gained a new crew member who, as foolish as Sadiq's actions had been in that backroom, would be a great help physically on board and against Ivan's supporters. And Arthur had proceeded to actually act on his attraction to Alfred, saw it nearly ruined, and yet still they came out shaky but all right.

All in all, it had been a very productive week and a half. And everything seemed to be going right for once—which, of course, made Arthur worry that everything was about to go to shit, but he hoped that wouldn't be the case. They had earned a break after all this time, hadn't they? Granted, Arthur hadn't been with the group nearly as long as some had but still, he could sympathize (he was honestly surprised more hadn't gone mad after searching after Ivan for so long with little to no results). Alfred ran his hand down the length of Arthur's arm and played with his fingers as they headed down stairs, his eyes flashing over from behind his glasses, a similar look of cautious optimism on his face.

"So, we're ok, right?"

_Yes, we're fine._ Arthur had to squash the ridiculous smile that he felt bubbling up at the happiness that spread across Alfred's face before he ended up looking like a fool so he ducked his head away and stared at the floor. Alfred linked their fingers together and swung their hands back and forth as they headed down the last few stairs, his expression light and carefree—Arthur felt a distant twinge of guilt he'd driven that expression away last night but he forced himself to not think on it. They'd talked about it last night and had worked past it; it would do no one any good to continue to dwell on the past.

"And, you saw where Braginski is! All you gotta do is look through all your moldy books and then we'll have him!"

_They are NOT moldy you twat. And, it may take a bit longer than you might think, not to mention I don't think it'd be a good idea to announce where we're headed when you've all acknowledged that Ivan has a tendency to 'peek' on you and your whereabouts._

"Well, obviously not. It's not like we're gonna walk around the ship and yell where we're headed."

_That may not be enough! You should speak with Seychelles about establishing a false trail so that if Ivan has spies they won't know where we're going. And I don't think we should speak on our destination at all once we've determined it at all in case he peeks again. Which is bloody unsettling, you know, that he looks in on us._

"You worry too much, Iggy. He won't be able to tell where we are when we're at sea…although the idea about a false lead is pretty good! We could get Feliks to help with that since he's not coming with us."

_My name is Arthur, not Iggy, and I think you worry too little at times. Aren't you at all disturbed by Ivan's constant interest in you, in the crew? I've spoken to the others, he's been spying on you lot long before I ever joined._

Alfred's smile slipped off his face into a thoughtful frown, looking as if he'd never been asked such a question before; Arthur rolled his eyes and wondered to himself whether any of the crew had ever bothered to mention to Alfred just how odd it was that Ivan had his unusual interest with him or if Alfred was just that thick. He was inclined to say the former as opposed to the latter but one never knew (especially considering how hard Alfred appeared to be thinking over Arthur's words). Alfred shrugged after a few more moments of deep thought, giving Arthur a confident, self-assured smile that was likely all real and without bravado.

"Well, I am the hero and he's the evil villain, maybe he sees me as his arch-enemy or something. Don't worry about it though, we'll be careful on the ship so he doesn't find out we're onto his hideout!"

Yes, let's keep shouting that bit out for any and all to hear. Arthur scowled and smacked Alfred's arm as they joined what looked like the majority of the crew, missing only Francis and Rosa; Seychelles looked at the two of them critically for a moment before she gave them a grin and asked, "You two all sorted then?"

Arthur could hear the different meanings that question held, and so could everybody else (why couldn't they keep their noses out of his business? It was a bloody nuisance). He nodded shortly while Alfred spoke the words aloud and began to launch into a discussion with the captain about what would be their best route to take out of Spandow, letting Arthur drift away as he started to gesture excitedly with his hands. Sadiq was polishing his large sword and keeping mostly to himself while Esther and Vash were going over the inventory lists they must have received from some other crew hands that morning. Feliks was nowhere to be found. Alejandro was speaking with Antonio while Lily played a game with Feliciano and Kiku, leaving Gilbert to speak with his brother in low tones. Romano was frowning off to the side, looking uncomfortable and confused. Arthur felt a tug of sympathy for the amnesiac Vargas twin but wasn't sure anything he tried to say would be appreciated; he'd seen how the man reacted to sympathy, it wasn't pretty.

"If Francis doesn't get his ass down here in the next few minutes, I WILL leave him here," Seychelles shouted loudly. Rosa had just descended, looking very sleepy but all packed nonetheless, which left Seychelles to glare menacingly at the stairs with her one visible eye. "Did you hear me, you lazy frog? Quit your primping and get down, we need to leave!"

"Another pair that needs to get their heads out of their asses and just fuck." Arthur looked over sharply at Gilbert who was smirking at the captain from where he was standing beside Arthur. "Make everyone's life a whole lot easier if they did. Good on you two for getting out of your little spat, by the way, I would've hated having to lock you in a broom closet."

**Must you be so crude?**

"Crude? Whatever man, I'm awesome and you know it. I'm like the relationship guru on the ship."

**Telling people to fuck isn't what I'd refer to as helpful.**

Gilbert shrugged at Arthur's message, clearly not agreeing but not finding it worth it to argue the point. "Works well enough to me. You get all your little issues out with Hero last night?"

**I hardly see how that's any of your business.**

"Hey, we got enough sexual tension floating around the ship as it is, we don't need your lover's tiff cluttering up the air too! But, considering you look happy enough and Hero is back to his hyperactive self, I'm going to take that as a yes." Gilbert leered at Arthur, who met the look with a glare of his own, and gave a small chuckle at Arthur's reaction. Arthur's attention was commandeered for a moment by Francis arrival, who had nearly skipped down the steps and was now flouncing his hair in Seychelles face, who did not look amused. When he looked back around, Gilbert had drifted back over to his brother, giving the tall man a brotherly hug, promising that they'd be back soon and would let him know any news they learned.

Alejandro and Sadiq were first to leave, hauling the large packs and supplies given to them by Ludwig after them, with Esther and Rosa following after with their own packs. Kiku was murmuring his goodbyes to Feliciano and Ludwig and lingering a little afterward, looking sadder than usual at how tightly Feliciano hugged Kiku goodbye with tears in his eyes. Arthur made to follow out after Vash and his sister but he felt a hand on his arm; he paused and turned around to meet the merchant Yao's golden brown eyes and smile (which was odd, he hadn't thought the merchant would stick around after leading them back). A few people were still lingering in their goodbyes, Alfred included, so Arthur nodded at Yao in question, wondering what the merchant wanted.

"I was wondering if you had used that pendant yet? Did it work at all?"

Arthur gave small nod and scribbled down the rest of his answer. **Yes, it allows Alfred to hear my words if I speak them to him directly.**

"Useful gift." Arthur gave another nod and quirked his eyebrows in question at Yao's silence afterward, a glance behind him showed that Seychelles was leaving with Francis after exchanging a more familiar good bye with Antonio. "And you can still use your Voice; well, you certainly have been fortunate despite your encounter with Ivan Braginski."

Arthur wasn't sure he'd call it fortunate but he nodded politely just the same. He hadn't really thought about what it meant that his power was still there, seemingly not only available in dire need but if he concentrated hard enough (he had been much more concerned with the troubles between him and Alfred hadn't he?) but he knew he'd have plenty of time to think about it once they set sail. And hopefully, some kind of answer could be found between all of them; it would certainly make Arthur feel a bit stronger in his ability to look after himself though, if he still had full use of the Voice. Though, he didn't have a lot of practical experience in using it all that much, (it hadn't seemed prudent to practice something that could get him killed back home) but maybe he could work on that on board the _Evangeline_.

"It would be wise to try and hone your skills with the Voice now that you know it is still in your possession. Ivan may be powerful, but he is not a God; a rabbit will use any and every advantage he can find to fend off against the hawk that hunts him, so should you." Arthur blinked, surprised (and a little unnerved) that Yao's words mirrored his own thoughts so precisely, and gave another polite nod, a bit more hesitant than before. Yao smiled and patted his shoulder. "I wish you a safe journey, Arthur Kirkland; it was a pleasure to meet you."

"Arthur, we gotta go! Alfred came over and grabbed the shorter man's hand, tugging him after despite Arthur's silent sputtering, flashing the merchant a broad grin as they left. "See ya, Yao! Write us if you find out anything more about Braginski's movements! Ow, quit kicking my shin, Iggy!"

Arthur scowled but stopped his kicking now that Alfred wasn't dragging him hard enough to dislocate his shoulder. _Then stop pulling so hard! And quit calling me Iggy, you prat!_

They hustled out of the inn and hurried after the captain and Francis, missing the dark look Kiku sent towards the merchant as he exited behind them. Or that Yao watched them leave until they crested over the hill, blinking out of sight once they were gone.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Arthur was beginning to get frustrated. He had looked through every navigation book he had aboard and he still had not found anything useful regarding the mountain range he saw in Ruthenia; this was largely due to the fact that his books had little to no information on Ruthenia. He slammed the cover of another geography book closed and frowned at the wood table in the navigation room, wishing that he had not already combed through every other book he had and found nothing in those as well.

They had made it out of Spandow and Germania without incident and were currently sailing across the deep blue Medii* that served as the safest passageway between the western lands of Avrupa* from the eastern nations of the Byzantium*. One could cross over from either Roma or Merica, but the large mountain range that separated the two lands was dangerous for even the most experienced mountaineers and rangers, let alone a crew of sailors and bereft Talented people. The Craggs were an unforgiving valley of peaks and cliffs, Arthur doubted they would have made it through in one piece and had been fervently happy the crew had agreed sailing across the Medii proved the better option.

It had taken them a few weeks to sail down and around the coast of España and now they were sailing towards Pannonia* where their ship would resupply before continuing its long stretch across the Medii. Alfred had mentioned they had a friend in the large port city of Vindobona** who was always happy to help them fight against Ivan, though why that friend was happy to help he was mum about other than he wanted help Lily as a friend of Vash's. Arthur found that he didn't care as much about not having all the answers as he did before—if the person was willing to help, and the crew all trusted him, then Arthur could care less about the reasons.

After they resupplied in Pannonia, the plan was to sail across the rest of the Medii and dock in Zion, where Esther had already mentioned that she knew some people who would be willing to help arrange transport through the Byzantium countries and to Ruthenia. It was unfortunate they could not sail any farther from there but it was unavoidable. Ruthenia was in the far northeast, so the only way to feasibly get there by ship was to sail across the Medii to one of the kingdoms of Byzantium and arrange for land transport from there. Trying to sail up past the Nords wouldn't work because that would mean trying to cross the Barrens, a desolate wasteland that had little to any life within it, which was just a fool's errand. It would still be dangerous to travel through the Byzantium though; the different countries always seemed to be on the brink of war and, generally, did not take kindly to 'westerners.'

It was a blessing really, that Sadiq had joined their group; with both him and Esther there it would hopefully ward off most unpleasant interactions with the local populace and they could communicate with most of the people in their own tongue. Arthur may never have interacted with many people from the Byzantium living in Britannia most of his life, but he knew from his readings they likely wouldn't be too impressed or helpful if they didn't speak the language. Arthur sighed silently and leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his temples roughly as he focused back on the present and the problem he was having on finding anything useful about Ruthenia's geography.

Ruthenia was considered both a part of the Byzantium and set apart at the same time. It had once been a vastly powerful empire and had conquered most of the Far East and the Byzantium some four or five centuries ago, and had rivaled even the huge Roma Empire from millennia past. But, it had crumbled upon itself and had lost nearly all of its power and wealth, though how it had happened the history books were unclear on. The common consensus was that the Ruthenia emperor had angered or insulted the gods and brought their wrath upon his Empire. Arthur, however, figured it was more because of the awful winters that began during that Emperors' reign which had basically ruined the crops and also because of the rebellions that had happened simultaneously across the land. For whichever reason, Ruthenia was left a ruined nation, still large and stretching across all the way to the Far East but comprised mostly of infertile, useless land that no other nation saw much point in trying to take.

It was actually quite sad that so many people lived in such an inhospitable place that had once been so glorious.

Arthur leaned forward again and shook his head clear of the thoughts; feeling bad for a country wasn't going to help him identify that blasted mountain he saw and what range it could be part of. He hoped it was the western most range along the Barrens because if it wasn't, if his instinct was wrong and it was a range further in, further east, he could only imagine how long it would take them to travel. And the longer they had to travel by foot in Ruthenia, the more opportunities it gave Ivan to discover what they were up to, precautions taken or not. He took a deep breath and pushed up from the table, grabbing another one of the Byzantium navigation charts and a book that focused on that terrain specifically and frowned in determination. He had already looked through this book but he'd look through it again. If they couldn't figure out where to head once they got to Zion, it would make the whole journey across the Medii pointless.

He was so absorbed in his reading that he didn't notice Alfred come in until the arms were wrapped around his waist, the taller man's chin resting on his shoulder with a small frown—he gave a little bit of a start but relaxed once he realized who it was. _Do you quite mind? I'm trying to concentrate, that's impossible to do if you're draped all over me._

"But you've been holed up in here for _hours_! You gotta eat you know, get some sunshine…the Shoals are always really pretty to look at and it's not like you've ever seen them before!" The Shoals were a large stretch of shallow water and colorful coral reefs off the coast of España; they continued all along the southern border until you reached Pannonia and were a popular tourist attraction for travelers.

_I have so! There are plenty of sketches of them in my books!_

"Oh whatever, that's not actually seeing them! Come on, you're just gonna get cranky if you keep going over all these maps for the thousandth time!" Alfred gripped Arthur's wrist and began pulling him out of the room (Arthur, of course, resisted). "Roderick has a bunch of books in his library, I'm sure we can find something about what you saw there!"

Arthur put up a fuss for another few moments (mainly because he felt like he had to on principal) before he scowled but followed along nonetheless. Alfred flashed him a big grin and led him through the ship's corridors and up to the deck, practically skipping in giddiness. He was in such a rush to get them both on deck he nearly rammed straight into Sadiq, leaving Arthur to gesture apologetically to the scowling man and snap crossly at Alfred to watch where he was going. Alfred simply gave him another broad grin and took the stairs to the deck two at a time, making Arthur do the same. Arthur suppressed a fond smile at him and gave up a quick prayer of thanks to the Lady that the awkwardness that had plagued them for so long had all but disappeared as they sailed to Pannonia.

They had, as agreed, slowed down the more physical aspects of their relationship and had spent more time actually talking about themselves, about their lives before Ivan, about their families, about little nothings that still managed to mean something when they were done. It wasn't all easy or even pleasant; especially considering that Arthur's main mode of protection over the past few pre-Ivan years (which he had taken to referring to things in his life as, Pre-Ivan and Post-Ivan) mainly involved not talking about himself. But, Alfred was persistent, if not particularity patient, and surprisingly understanding, which helped Arthur tremendously. They'd had a few more tiffs of course (as they were just too different for fights not to happen) but never quite on level with what had happened in Spandow.

And for everything that Alfred learned about Arthur, Arthur learned about Alfred. The younger man had no problem revealing everything about his life (as Arthur had) and genuinely seemed to enjoy talking about his family, mainly his brother Matthew. His parents, like Arthur's, had passed away when he'd been relatively young, and while they had been raised by a eccentric aunt, his brother became his family (a concept so vastly different from Arthur's own relationship to his brothers it made him a bit sad). And, the more Alfred talked about Matthew, the more Arthur came to understand _why_ he had been so over-protective of Arthur, hearing the obvious guilt Alfred carried within about what had happened to Matthew every time he spoke of his brother. It made Arthur feel a bit sheepish that he had gotten so worked up about it, but he hadn't known and it wouldn't do to dwell on things behind them.

Arthur tugged hard on the hand dragging him across the ship, giving Alfred an unamused look before he yanked the taller man back and forced him to walk at a normal pace (if they ran into Vash when he was cleaning those muskets of his, the consequences would only be dire). Alfred smiled and gave small nod, but only when Arthur let him link their fingers together and walk hand-in-hand, which was terribly embarrassing but not entirely unpleasant. In fact, it was rather nice. Alfred led him to the portside of the ship, where the vantage point was higher than on the starboard side, and pointed at the colorful coral that was visible from even their distance. Arthur stared and felt a small smile grace his face at the sight, watching sea-foam green water splash against the myriad of colored corals, a veritable rainbow on the water; seeing the Shoals in person really wasn't the same as looking at an artist's interpretation in a book (not that Alfred needed to know that, he'd be insufferably for hours).

"I saw the Shoals for the first time a few years ago, right around when I teamed up with Seychelles. There were only a few of us at that point, just me, 'Chelles, Francis and Antonio, and Feliks and Toris. We were heading to the southern coast of Roma because we heard about how there had been an orphanage where all the kids had been drained of their youth…some of 'em died. Kinda sucks that my first memory of something so awesome is tainted…but I guess that just means I get to make better memories, uh?"

Alfred peeked up at Arthur through his bangs, looking incredibly adorable and young as he looked expectantly at the shorter man. Arthur felt a rush of emotion come over him, and he blushed furiously, looking down and away from that face. He hated that Alfred could make him feel like an utter fool with just a glance (all right, he didn't hate it but it was a right pain in the arse). _Sh-shut it, you daft fool. _

Alfred just smiled in reply (he'd gotten much better at reading between the lines of what Arthur said and what he meant after all their discussions) and bumped Arthur's shoulder with his own. Arthur gave him a small, brief smile before he turned back to watch how the shallow water splashed against the bright coral, enjoying the warm, brisk air of the Medii and the feel of Alfred's arm bumping into his.

It was probably a good thing that the younger man had dragged him out of the navigation room; he'd been in there since breakfast trying to find something he might have missed in his books about that mountain he saw and he could admit that he was getting a bit snappish due to his frustration (nothing worth the theatric cowering Francis did whenever he turned a corner though, the git). Just sitting out in the sun with Alfred had done wonders to his nerves, calming him down so that he actually felt somewhat relaxed again. He inched his hand over and touched Alfred's fingers with his own, not really holding his hand exactly, his fingers dancing softly against the back of Alfred's.

"Gods above, could you two be ANY more nauseating?" Arthur glared and turned to shoot an annoyed look at a grumbling Gilbert, tightening his grip on around Alfred's fingers in defiance. Alfred frowned but otherwise didn't react to Gilbert's attitude as the deaf man stomped away, still muttering under his breath, an ugly frown marring his face. Arthur huffed silently and focused his irritated glare on Alfred.

_What the bleeding hell is HIS problem? He's been acting like a complete arse ever since we left Germania!_

"No, he's been acting like an asswipe even since we told him we were heading to Pannonia." Alfred's eye watched after Gilbert for a few moments before he smiled apologetically to Arthur and shrugged.

_And would you care to enlighten me as to WHY he's acting like a wanker?_

"Well, it's kinda his business and uh—" Alfred fidgeted a bit under Arthur's unimpressed stare before he blew out an annoyed breath and leaned in close. "Fine, fine, don't get all uppity about it—he's acting like a jerk because he doesn't want to go to Pannonia and visit Roderick."

Roderick Edelstein. He was a man Vash knew 'pre-Ivan' who was a well known historian and aristocrat living in Vindobona; he had been a close friend to Vash and took the attack against Lily personally and always offered help to the _Evangeline_ crew when they came to port. He was also the best bet Arthur had for finding more detailed books regarding Ruthenia landmarks and geography; he apparently had quite the library. Though Vash was rather tight-lipped about his life and family apart from Lily, he had spoken about Roderick with respect and Vash-like affection and the rest of the crew agreed that while the aristocrat could be a bit snobby, he was generally a good man.

Why Gilbert would harbor such a strong dislike for someone who was helping them on their journey did not make sense. _What does he have against Roderick then? He's been pissy for a fortnight, that's more than general dislike._

Alfred sighed again and kept glancing over the side of the boat, as if he'd rather be discussing (or possibly jumping overboard) anything else other than what Arthur wanted to know. "Well…there was this girl who used to travel with us before Vash joined; she'd had this wicked ability with plants, could make them grow, change their color, anything really and Braginski stole it. She and Gilly, well, they kinda-sorta-maybe had a _thing_ going on, I guess…but she uh, well, she fell for Roderick and kinda…married him. She lives with him in Pannonia now and Gilbert's been pretty angry about the whole thing ever since; I really don't know which of the two he's more upset with…'Chelles says it's Elizaveta, the girl in the story, but he always glares at Roderick when he sees him so I dunno."

Arthur stared at Alfred for a moment before he dropped his gaze to the side and overlooked the water. How did you really respond to that? _Oh…well that's just a terrible all around situation, isn't it? Has anyone tried to talk to him about—_

"Are you kidding? He's touchy as hell about the whole thing and punches hard. Besides, anytime you mention Elizaveta around him he'll just walk away so he can't read your lips!"

_Then when does he get around to punching if he always runs?_

"Duh! When he gets really drunk that night. It's just, you know, one of those things we try not to mention that much."

_But, if you go to this Roderick often for help, does he ALWAYS act like such a—like this?_

"Pretty much…we've all just learned to ignore him but I think, maybe, seeing you and me just, you know, makes him more of a jerk. It probably doesn't help that Francis has been way more serious about 'wooing' 'Chelles since Spandow too."

Alfred shrugged again before he leaned against the wooden railing, the wind coming off the sea blowing back his hair from his face, his glasses sitting precariously on his nose. Arthur reached over and pushed them up (he wasn't sure just how much Alfred needed his glasses to see well but it was best to take no chances…plus Arthur was rather fond of them) so they rested on the bridge of his nose again. He shook his head in exasperation as Alfred gave him a big smile in thanks and wrapped an arm around his waist, tugging him close, as they looked out at the Shoals. Arthur went easily and stared out at the coral without really seeing, his mind wandering elsewhere after what he'd just learned about his crewmate.

It was odd to think of Gilbert being in love with someone, especially to the point where it still affected him years later, when he was constantly tolling the virtues of being unfettered and how much less trouble it was to not get too attached (Arthur tried not to think about how similar a philosophy he'd had until recently). But then—how well did he really know any of his crew mates beyond Alfred (and that was a recent development)? Everyone came from vastly different backgrounds and didn't really speak about their lives prior to Ivan attacking them that much and for all intents and purposes, Arthur was likely still a stranger to most of them. Britannia did not tend to foster good relations with other countries other than trade agreements and their negative view on magic was well known, maybe he made them uncomfortable despite his gifts. Maybe even _more_ so because of them.

"You're thinking too much again." Arthur jerked out of his musings and gave Alfred a small frown but didn't disagree with him. "Wanna go inside and see if Kiku can help you practice with your voice? He's probably not doing anything now that Lily's feeling better today."

It was entirely too depressing to think that Kiku had to treat a little girl for pneumonia for the past week and a half, which had developed from a cold that would have given her sniffles under normal circumstances. However, due to the age of her body—Arthur didn't know how that sweet girl could still be so kind and friendly given what had happened to her and what she had to bear. Lady above knew that Vash worried she'd pass from old age before they could find Ivan and reverse what had been done to her (if they even could…was youth the same as talent?). He shook his head of the sad thought and gave Alfred a small nod of agreement; Kiku had helped Lily and she was doing much better now, there was no point in dwelling on horrible 'what-ifs' scenarios.

_I don't understand why I'm having such difficulty using it again. It doesn't make any sense. It worked when I pushed in Spandow and now, nothing._

"Well, Kiku said it was all in your head; maybe you're thinking too much about how you can't do it and it's making it harder." Arthur shrugged but gave Alfred a wan smile when he saw the concern behind the spectacles.

_I suppose._

"Well, you know what they say, practice makes perfect!" Alfred gave him a big thumbs up as they walked back down and into the ship towards Kiku's healing room; Arthur rolled his eyes and followed after, hoping to have a bit more luck today with his Voice than he'd been having.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Nikolai felt a disturbance in the water.

He was standing silently in the shallow swells coming off the northern Alta Divide, listening to what the waves told him, to the energy that was always flowing through the ocean whispered to him and frowned at what he found. There was something wrong, something unnatural, dangerous, and it was threatening the Balance; the ocean was trying to warn him about what that threat was, but he couldn't understand. It was all mixed up, incoherent and dark, not at all like what the Divide usually sounded like. He breathed out and opened his eyes, staring out at the dark blue expanse of cold, northern waters, not at all comforted with what he had learned from his little trip. He turned away and began the journey back to the Nord woods where Tino was waiting for him.

Tino had been concerned as well; Earth and Water were more in tune with the Balance than Wind, Fire, and Ice. He'd been hearing whispers since before the _Evangeline_ had last visited but it was only recently they began to make any sort of sense, and even then the sense was muddled and unclear. And Tino shared what Nikolai suspected; that Ivan was doing something. He'd likely been doing this something for years, but whatever it was it was starting to disturb the Balance—Nikolai only wished that his element was a bit more specific on what that something was.

He found Tino waiting for him at the edge of the woods, sitting cross-legged on the ground, eyes closed shut and his hands buried in the dirt. Nikolai remained silent until Tino blinked open his eyes and looked up at him, a frown on his normally smiling face. "I take it your efforts weren't very effective either, uh?"

"Correct." Nikolai glanced backwards once before he held out a hand and pulled the Earth element to his feet. "All I could sense was danger and worry, nothing definitive."

"Well, that can't mean anything good. It was the same for me—but I got something else as well." Tino brushed his hands off on his pants and breathed out a heavy, sad sigh. Nikolai quirked his eyebrow in question. "I—the earth took me to Merica, Ivan was there recently."

Nikolai felt a headache bloom behind his eyes. "What was he doing there?"

"I don't know…but Matthew didn't answer when I Earth-called him and—and when I looked, the Jones house looked destroyed. He's not there, Niko."

"And you think Ivan—"

"Why else would he go back to that town? Matthew and Alfred have been the only ones with Talents in that area for generations. He wouldn't have a reason to go back there."

Nikolai nodded, a frown crawling across his face as he met Tino's worried face. "He took him. Because of Alfred?"

Tino shrugged but brought a finger up to his mouth, nibbling at the corner of his thumbnail. "Why else? You've seen it too, the disturbing fascination Ivan has with him."

"Why now then? Why hasn't this happened before?"

"…I don't know."

Nikolai thought back to his last encounter with both Ivan and Alfred and felt a solid whisper brush past his mind, giving him the answer. "The mute."

"Arthur?" Tino's face went pale and he looked down at the ground, no doubt feeling the earth's whispers tell him the truth. He felt a brief pang of regret for his fellow elemental, he knew how close Tino had become with the mute over the short time of his recovery.

Nikolai shrugged and looked back toward the ocean, random whispers meeting up in his mind, trying to fit themselves together like a puzzle. They were trying to tell them something, the water and the earth, telling them the danger was coming and Ivan taking Matthew was connected. He focused on Tino. "You're sure? Sure that he's gone and Ivan's involved with it?"

Tino met his stare for a few moments before he nodded. Nikolai sighed and walked back towards the ocean. "Tell Mathias I'll be back in a few weeks and to NOT come after me."

"Are you going to tell them?"

"Someone has to. His abduction is wrapped up in the danger we're being warned about." Tino looked as if he wanted to argue against Nikolai going alone but he couldn't find an argument to argue with so he simply nodded in agreement. Nikolai stepped back into the frigid water and closed his eyes, willing his body to mold and shift until he couldn't tell the difference between him and the ocean. He'd go to Spandow first, try to figure out where they could have gone from there, and hoped that they were still sea bound or else he'd have no chance at trying to find them. And, with that thought, he plunged down into the rolling waves, fearing the dark, Ivan and his meddling with the Balance.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

* Please refer to map in resource post

**Vindobana – old Roman Empire name for a town that would become Vienna

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	15. Chapter 15

Title : Of Silence and Thievery  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: I am truly sorry for the long delay in this chapter. The last one didn't seem to get many comments or reads and it put me in a bit of a slump and I wanted to work on other things. But I am back and it's a long one! Please, if you read and you liked, do me the favor and review! It's what we authors live for you know!

Note 2: Thank you EllaRose C for reading this beast over, you're the bestest!

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter Fifteen: Where Arthur Meets Elizaveta (who is Much More Memorable than Roderich)_

"You are thinking about it too much, Arthur-san. At this rate, the only thing you will accomplish is getting a headache." Arthur let out a silent breath and closed his eyes, feeling a slight pound behind his temples in time with Kiku's words. He opened his eyes, met Kiku's kind, concerned stare, and waved his hand to indicate he was fine. Kiku bowed his head in response and grabbed Arthur's tablet; he handed it over with the quill. "Perhaps we should stop for the day. I fear that if we continue, you may have trouble sleeping, and I have no more lavender until we are docked in Vindobona."

Arthur frowned and scribbled down his words. **We haven't accomplished anything.**

"I wouldn't say that. Just because you have not used your Voice does not mean we haven't accomplished anything—you could certainly say that we have learned another method that does not work in calling the power to bear." Kiku spared a small smile, his black ears flicking back from his head, his bushy tail swaying back and forth calmly behind him.

**I wouldn't exactly call that an accomplishment - unless you mean a method beyond 'in frustration.' Then I suppose you're right.**

Arthur sighed and rubbed at his eyes, the orange feather of the quill tickling his nose a bit. For the past two weeks, he had been meeting Kiku in the Kitsune's rooms and they had been working on using the Voice. Arthur had grown more and more frustrated that no matter how hard he concentrated, how clear he made his mind, or how loud he yelled (which was a manner of speaking of course because even his screaming was silent to everyone else) his Voice remained dormant. If he hadn't used the bloody thing in Spandow, he would've thought that the other times he had used it were nothing but flukes.

He couldn't figure out why he had been able to use it before in that brothel, and now, when he was actually trying, he couldn't seem to draw it up. Logically, Arthur assumed that since he had used his Voice and was now aware that even though Ivan stole his physical voice, the power still resided within him and that it make it easier for him to _use_ it. Hadn't his belief that he couldn't use his Voice been what had held him back before? Apparently not, because he was having as much luck using his Voice now as he'd had before Spandow. Kiku did not seem as fussed about it as Arthur though, even if he'd essentially wasted the past two weeks helping Arthur accomplish nothing. Arthur doubted that even if Kiku had been upset that he would be able to notice it—Kiku did polite and courteous as well as Gilbert did obnoxious and loud.

"It is not as if you must learn everything right this moment, Arthur-san. Whatever the reason within that is blocking your abilities, we have time to discover it and work past it. You should not be such a harsh critic of yourself." Kiku walked over to his cabinets and pulled out a few unidentifiable flowers and plants, dropping them into a small mortar bowl and crushing them together with some water. Arthur eyed the bowl warily—Kiku's herbal remedies, while effective, tasted utterly vile (so vile that the headache he'd developed was more appealing to be honest). "Keep in mind that you have lived most of your life avoiding your gifts or only using them for mundane things; you then went through a series of traumatic events that affected your already limited use—I am surprised you were able to use your gift in the brothel at all. Life threatening circumstances are one thing; using it consciously outside of pure animalistic instinct is quite another."

Arthur shrugged and took a seat on one of Kiku's couches. **Do you really believe it's just all in my head?**

Kike looked up from his mixing and nodded in agreement. "Yes, I do believe that. And we'll find what the problem is with continued practice and persistence. Just as I believe we will find what we need regarding Ruthenia once we arrive in Pannonia."

**And you're so confident why?**

Kiku gave Arthur another smile as he set aside his mixing stone and dipped a cloth rag in to mixture. "Just a feeling."

Arthur snorted silently and took the damp rag offered to him. He looked at it blankly for a moment before Kiku indicated for Arthur to place it over his eyes; Arthur did so gladly, happy he didn't have to drink the mixture. Whatever Kiku mixed together tingled a bit against his skin, but he felt the pound behind his temples begin to retreat and dull as the moisture seeped into his skin and the scent drifted up his nose. He wished he could be as optimistic as Kiku was in regards to their success in Pannonia, but after finding absolutely nothing in the books he had on board he was trying not to get his hopes up. True, this Roderich fellow may have a larger selection of books to choose from, but Arthur had a fair amount of noteworthy navigation tomes on board and even in those there was little in regards to Ruthenia. He was beginning to think that there was just not a lot written about the desolate country in modern texts—but he kept those thoughts to himself. No point in bringing down the rest of the crew's hopes until he was absolutely certain they were well and truly fucked.

"Does it smell like the eucalyptus in Seychelles's quarters?" Arthur nodded in response, Kiku's soft words bringing his thoughts out of their morose trend. "Good—it is hard for me to gauge if the poultice is ready or not without my sense of smell, even if I have had time to adjust to the loss."

Arthur could do nothing but nod again in sympathy—it was easy to forget that Kiku had his sense of smell stolen from him since there was no visible red scar (which was a bit odd) and he didn't make much of a fuss over it. If he hadn't been told at the onset of his journey on board the _Evangeline_ and Kiku didn't make those off comments, Arthur would never have known that his sense of smell had been stolen at all. Though, it was strange that it had been stolen since it apparently wasn't an unusual gift; Kiku, as all his fellow Kitsunes, had the same superior sense of smell—but Arthur had no real desire to start trying to understand how a mind like Ivan Braginski's worked. He was still horrified at the story Alfred had told him before about the orphanage in Roma where he had drained children to the point where they had died, little more than withered, old husks.

"Arthur-san, would you mind if I asked you a somewhat personal question?" Kiku's voice broke into the comfortable silence that had descended between them, his voice polite and soothing but holding a slight lilt of hesitance. His headache nearly gone, Arthur nodded and sat back up, taking the cloth off his eyes and grabbing his tablet; Kiku took the used cloth and set it inside his mixing bowl. "I saw that Yao-sama spoke with you before we departed Spandow and was hoping you would not be uncomfortable in telling me what he may have said. If not, I understand completely and would not wish to make you speak of anything you do not wish to."

Arthur blinked at Kiku for a moment, confusion tickling his skin before he gripped his quill and wrote out his reply. **It doesn't make me uncomfortable, but may I ask why? **

Kiku stared at the tablet, even after it went blank, before he inclined his head slightly. "Yao-sama may be a brilliant shaman and a useful ally; however, he does not always view things the same way as you or I would and his advice has caused, ah… _problems_ in the past."

Arthur was reminded of Alfred's words in Spandow that he had all but forgotten in the wake of the brothel excitement and the subsequent fight with Alfred. Kiku had some sort of issue with Yao from the past that had created a rift between them; as Arthur thought about it further, he remembered Seychelles making a comment about it when she'd asked Kiku to fetch Yao to aid them in their infiltration. He had been curious about whatever the issue had been at the time, but so much had happened between Alfred mentioning any relationship and them leaving that his curiosity had quickly subsided to make room for more pressing thoughts. It was rushing back though at the odd inflection in Kiku's voice and the question posed weeks after they had left Spandow.

**He asked about the pendant. And told me to practice with the Voice. **Arthur flashed the message before he began writing again as the orange letters faded on the black stone. **I spoke to him about the pendant before; he asked if I had found out what it did. I told him I did, should I not have?**

Kiku sighed and shook his head, an apologetic look on his face. "No, no, that is fine. There are few with a better understanding of Fey creatures and Faerie magic than Yao-sama. I apologize, Arthur-san, I do not wish to foster any distrust between our allies or make you uneasy—I do not want my prejudices influencing your judgment."

Arthur shrugged and tapped the quill against the tablet as he debated whether it was appropriate to ask why exactly Kiku thought badly of Yao or why he should be potentially concerned over advice given to him (especially when he thought back to how Yao had assuaged the doubts he had over the deal he'd made with the fairies—perhaps he still had grounds to be concerned). Kiku _had_ invited the discussion by asking the initial question of Arthur but, well, it seemed quite a bit more personal than what Kiku had asked. He was saved from having to make a decision, though, when Kiku spoke.

"I assume you've been informed of my past problems with Yao-sama."

Arthur shook his head. **Just that there was a problem, no details. Alfred didn't feel right telling.**

Kiku smiled softly and clasped his hands together. "Alfred-san can be quite thoughtful when he puts his mind to it." Arthur snorted to himself, but Kiku caught to movement and his smiled widened. "As rare as the moments may be."

They lapsed into silence again, somewhat uncomfortable and heavy in the air. **You don't need to say anything. It's your business.**

"But I have made it yours as well by asking such an intrusive question and displaying my, shall we say, doubts for Yao-sama." Kiku straightened and took a seat beside Arthur, his dark eyes calm, but his hands too tight in his lap to be truly at ease. "It is only fair to show you the same courtesy that you have shown me. Do you—were you told how old Yao-sama is?"

**Some obscene age. **Arthur couldn't recall exactly what Alfred had mentioned but he remembered the age was something ridiculous, in the thousands or some such nonsense (magic he had gotten used to as something that was commonplace outside of his home country—immortal shamans were another thing entirely for his Britannia-raised sensibilities).

"Maybe something near four hundred years old?" Arthur could do little more than stare after his silent chuckles were met with a kind, patient stare. Kiku chuckled softly (no doubt at Arthur's expression, which he was sure looked plenty flabbergasted). "It is rather remarkable, I assume even more so for you, considering Britannia's attitude toward the abnormal. I myself had difficulty believing it when I first crossed paths with him—but he has his ways of convincing you."

Arthur nodded and stared at his tablet for a moment, waiting for his shock to wear off enough for him to form a sensible question. **So how did you cross paths?**

"In my homeland, among my den. I was beginning to show signs of the ability to channel and use magic, and he came to me and offered to teach me how to harness and use that power." Arthur nodded along with Kiku's words.

Being sequestered in Britannia, where even thinking about magic got you labeled a heathen, hadn't done much for his understanding of supernatural. However, he had learned quite a lot about the distinction between using magic, like a sorcerer from a story, and those who had Talent, like most of the crew, the rest of Avrupa acknowledged during his sessions with Kiku. While he had always known that having a gift or Talent meant that you had been born with 'magic' as a part of you, he'd assumed that people who did spells and other riff-raff were more or less the same. They weren't, though, according to Kiku, who'd explained that being born with a gift and being able to channel magic were more like distant cousins than siblings. Apparently those who used magic were not born with the gift, but were 'chosen' as they grew older—people like Arthur and others that Ivan targeted were born with magic manifested within them as Talents.

It had been somewhat confusing to grasp that magic 'chose' its users and was considered sentient in a way but Arthur had tried his best to come to terms with that, especially when he asked around the ship and the general consensus was that magic _was_ sentient (as unsettled as that made him feel). If so many different people from such varying backgrounds all agreed that it was with the same confidence they agreed that the sky was blue, Arthur figured there had to be some truth to it and it was Britannia that was a bit backwards. Arthur, frankly, was not too surprised by that bit.

"He was a mentor of sorts to me for many years but we had a—a difference of opinion over one of his other students and his attitude regarding what we, as magic users, were entitled to do with our abilities. What was right and what was an abuse of power and manipulation of the Balance. I left him in Germania and met the Vargas twins there before Ivan attacked them—it was very upsetting to watch Feliciano, someone who'd become a dear friend to me, go from a bright and lively young man to a simpleton so suddenly."

**Is that why you joined with the others?**

"It played a large part of my decision, yes. But, I also knew that Ivan had to be stopped somehow, and that too few stood against him as it was. Seeing a sixteen-year-old Alfred chasing after him certainly provided plenty of drive as well—if a young man, little more than a child, could stand against Ivan, surely I could as well."

Arthur smiled at the thought of Alfred, three years younger, being strong and stubborn enough to take on such a huge undertaking and risk untold dangers to help his brother—Lady above, he was turning into a sap. He looked down and away from Kiku's gaze to hide the red flush he could feel creeping across his cheeks and scribbled another question as it came to mind. **When did Ivan steal your sense of smell during all this?**

"Ah, that. Actually, he stole it before I came to Germania—I had a bit of a disagreement with him as well." Kiku's eyes looked distant as he trailed off, his gaze focused on the wood panels of the door as opposed to Arthur and his voice full of rueful regret. He blinked and smiled politely as he rose to his feet, walking over to where he had left the bowl and cloth and picking both up; Arthur rose to his feet as well. Not being able to speak had certainly helped him become more apt at reading the atmosphere and he could tell that whatever Kiku had been willing to divulge had been given. Though Arthur found he now had more questions about Kiku than he had before, which was a pain (and something he was unfortunately getting used to the longer he traveled aboard the _Evangeline_). "You should try to rest, even if your headache is gone, so your body doesn't feel drawn tomorrow. These sessions take their toll, even if the results yielded are still minimal. Would you still like to try again tomorrow?" Arthur wiped his free hand on his pants and nodded his agreement. "Good. I will see you then, Arthur-san."

Kiku gave a small bow before he began cleaning up the bowl and rag he'd used, turning away and leaving Arthur to exit silently on his own. Arthur did so, hesitating in the doorway for only a moment before he left, shutting the door softly behind him. He sighed silently before he backed away and headed up towards his room; he reached into his pocket and pulled out the metallic, faerie-made pendant and looked at it with trepidation before he put it back on. After hearing Yao's words to not worry about the deal he'd made with the faeries in exchange for the pendant, he had done just that and not worried. But now—now he was wondering if he should be concerned and if Alfred's initial anger over the blasted thing actually had grounds beyond his over-protective tendencies. He was wondering if he had made a terrible mistake in putting the pendant on and using it, even if it let him 'talk' to Alfred which was quite a help.

He ran his fingers over the smooth metal for a moment before dropping his hand and pushing the worry from his mind. He had more important things to focus on at the moment—the pendant and Yao's trustworthiness (which Arthur had never been completely sold on anyway) could wait.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Vindobona was a very different city from Spandow, Arthur decided as he looked out over the well made roofs, evenly cobbled roads and the clean, polished vista the city provided as the _Evangeline_ sailed into the port. Spandow had been huge, cluttered and somewhat messy—Vindobona was just as large and sprawling, but the houses were nicer, the inns more attractively painted and, even though they were in the port, an admittedly dirtier area of a city than most, it still smelled of flowers and fresh laundry. The sun was shining, a soft breeze full of the ocean was blowing in and Arthur had never seen a more picturesque city in all his readings and recent travels. He could definitely envision living here someday after all his adventuring was done.

"Pretty nice, uh?" Alfred was standing beside him against the ship's railing, his own packs slung over his shoulder, a bright grin on his face. "Definitely one of the nicer places I've been, but it's super expensive to live here—kinda like Olympia* back home. But sure nice to visit!"

_Do you miss it? Being home, I mean. _Arthur could not truly sympathize what it must have been like for Alfred to leave his home, which he obviously loved, at such a young age. He'd lived his whole life in Britannia, but had never truly viewed it as anything other than the land that housed his bookshop and family—he honestly did not miss it even if the idea of what he could do after the Ivan business was over (if it ever was… Arthur was beginning to think that chasing Ivan morphed into a lifelong occupation) did nag at him. He had never really liked the politics of his country, had not liked his neighbors or even his family, and while Londonium* had been a sight to see and the rolling green hills of the countryside were lovely, he had seen equally lovely places since he'd left. It was different for Alfred, though.

Alfred shrugged as the ship was sailed into an available dock and the crew hands went about securing the lines and getting the sails down. "Sorta. I miss my friends and Mattie and stuff but, you know, I miss all the people I've met while traveling, too! We'll visit soon, though. I mean, if we find out where Braginski's 'you-know-what' is we'll need to get Mattie!"

Arthur frowned at Alfred's not-so-subtle attempt to disguise that they were talking about Ivan's whereabouts but merely nodded in response. Seychelles called out to everyone that the ship was docked and it was time to disembark, which prompted Arthur to head over to the rampart, Alfred close beside him. They weren't holding hands because one instance of doing that on board in front of Gilbert and Francis (who of course had the sight described to him ridiculously by Gilbert) had created a week's worth of teasing from the pair of them that Rosa and Seychelles were happy to join in on. They had both decided then to keep public displays to a minimum to avoid any further incidents between Arthur and Francis (Arthur did not regret dumping the git's various hair brushes over the side of the ship after Francis had started narrating his interpretation of private moments between Arthur and Alfred…at all).

This, of course, was driving them both crazy. While they may have decided to not rush things, they had certainly not agreed to come to a screeching halt—Arthur could only work off so much frustration by cooking before he snapped (and he didn't care what those tossers said, his cooking was perfectly fine!). And it wasn't as if they could have any privacy in either of their cabins due to the thinness of the walls and! Sadiq generally avoided them both like the plague when together, which made the whole ship uncomfortable. It didn't matter that he and Alfred didn't even _do_ anything worth the mad giggling or avoidance—half the time they just bloody cuddled!

He took a deep breath, feeling his annoyance build up just thinking about everything, and tried to focus on the fact they were in Vindobona for a reason and it wouldn't do to get worked up when he needed to have his head about him. Seychelles paid the harbormaster his docking fee and gathered their group around them after they all had gotten off the ship, Vash the last off and helping Lily not lose her balance as she stepped off the rampart (ever since her bout with pneumonia, her limbs and equilibrium had been a bit off). "All here? Good, right then. Roderich said in his letter that he'd meet us here on the north end of the pier, so we'll need to head over in that direction before—"

"How did he know we'd be coming?" Sadiq interrupted, his tall, dark figure standing out like a sore thumb among the fair people bustling around them.

"Ludwig was kind enough to send a missive after we left, letting Roderich know we were coming. He sent Kiku and myself a letter early last week informing us he'd arrange to meet us here and provide transportation to his home." Seychelles sent a pointed look to Gilbert after she explained and held it until he met her stare. "And I expect you to not insult either of them when they arrive! They're giving us all free room and board, you know it'd cost most of our savings to stay at an inn here as long as we're going to need to."

Gilbert snorted but didn't argue with the captain, which seemed to satisfy her. She sniffed before smiling at the rest and clapping her hands excitedly. "To the north end, then!"

They made their way through the crowded docks with minimal problems (the only one who didn't attempt to skirt around other people was Sadiq, and he had a very large sword that deterred most would-be arguments) and Arthur enjoyed taking in the sights. Vindobona reminded him of a slightly happier-looking Londonium, actually; he'd visited the Britannia capitol a few times when he'd been a boy with his father on business, and while it was generally overcast, he had still liked the city. His father would always take him to the large library housed in the city—he remembered staying there, happy, for hours. It'd been there that he'd decided he wanted to work with books when he got older. Of course, his father hadn't really supported that career option, but his mother had encouraged him; he shook his head from the past and went back to looking at the city.

Seychelles led them with confidence to a slightly less busy section of the port, one filled with much nicer looking shops and private ships, and his eyes went to a series of black, horse-drawn carriages lined up along one of the roads. There was a man standing beside the carriages dressed in a long, blue coat and wearing buckled boots, a pair of glasses perched pertly on his nose, not quite covering his violet eyes and adding to his attractive features. His hair was dark and swept back elegantly from his face; he wasn't very tall, but he wasn't short, and he held himself with the confidence of a man who was accustomed to getting what he wanted. Arthur could only assume this was Roderich Edelstein.

"Chelles!" Arthur saw only a blur of what appeared to be a woman come streaking out from one of the carriages before she was wrapped tightly around Seychelles, her thick brown hair wild and wavy. When she pulled away after receiving an equally excited hug from Seychelles, Arthur got a better look at her face; she was very pretty, green-eyed and golden-skinned. She was wearing a flattering dress in green and soft brown and had on buckled boots that looked like they cost more than Arthur used to make in a week in Britannia. Even dressed in the finer clothing, though, she looked quite a bit more unkempt than Roderich and not the least bit concerned about it. "Oh, I can't believe how long it's been since you've been here! You lot need to visit me more often, I get so lonely without all of you around!"

"Elizaveta, you're married, how can you be lonely?" Seychelles's voice held a laugh in it.

"Oh, Roddy doesn't count, I see him every day!" Elizaveta teased back, sending Roderich a small coy smile as he walked up to join his wife; he had an affectionate look in his eyes as he met her smile. "You're all my closest friends! You need to visit more often, Ivan or no Ivan!"

"It is good to see you all again, and I see a few new faces have joined since your last visit." Roderich's voice was deep and cultured, like the rest of him; Elizaveta had released Seychelles and had moved on to hug Vash and Lily in quick succession before moving through the rest of the crew, heedless if she knew them or not (though she did avoid Gilbert and Francis). Seychelles took the opportunity to introduce Sadiq, Esther, and Arthur, all of whom were new crew members since their last visit. "I hope we can be of help to you."

"Alfred! Oh, come here, you big bean pole! How can you be taller since your last visit? You need to stop growing so fast!" Elizaveta rushed past Arthur to wrap Alfred in a tight hug, one Alfred returned with a big grin. She released him after a few moments, then her eyes met Arthur's and she smiled wider (normally, Arthur did not think wide smiles looked attractive on people apart from Alfred, but Elizaveta's was quite fetching, if a bit manic). Her eyes went back and forth between Alfred and himself for a few moments, as if analyzing something that Arthur could not see. However, when she squealed in gleeful joy and hugged Arthur tight, he had a sinking feeling he knew what exactly she had been scrutinizing; women had a downright uncanny ability to sense relationships even if nothing was said or even demonstrated. He could feel his face flush hotly in response.

"Elizaveta, you're choking him, dear."

"Liz! Jeez, calm down, it's just Arthur—"

Elizaveta, still hugging Arthur tight turned her head to glare at Alfred, who promptly realized he'd made some sort of huge mistake. "You _finally_ got yourself a boyfriend and you call him 'just Arthur?' Don't ruin this happy day for me by getting yourself dumped! And you," Elizaveta turned her attention back to Arthur, "Aren't you just a handsome thing, eyebrows and all! You have no idea how happy I am that you're around! I mean, obviously I'm not happy that you got your voice stolen – oh, Ludwig told us in his letter - it must've been awful, but I was beginning to worry Alfred was asexual or something!"

"And that's enough of that." Alfred pried Arthur out of Elizaveta's hold, a deep scarlet flush tickling his ears and cheeks, expression pouty. "How did you even _know_? It's not like I'm kissing him in broad daylight or anything."

"Oh Alfred, it's so obvious! Standing close to each other, looking ridiculously happy, the raw, sexual tension just bursting between you two—" Roderich clapped a hand over Elizaveta's mouth and gave them both an apologetic glance; Elizaveta continued to talk, although it was muffled by her husband's hand covering her mouth. If possible, Arthur felt his face flush even brighter and he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the rest of the crew, daring them to say anything in response to Elizaveta's prattle.

"You know, I may be deaf, but that doesn't mean I can't tell when you open your mouth and prove just how tactless you are, Lizzy. Seriously, you've known Eyebrows for all of ten minutes and you've got him wishing the ground would just swallow him up. Must be a new record for you!" A deathly silence followed Gilbert's words but he did not look regretful; in fact, he looked a bit smug, eyebrows raised mockingly and a smirk fully in place. A few of the crew grumbled (Seychelles sent Gilbert the most threatening look Arthur had ever seen her throw out), Roderich leveled an unimpressed look, and Elizaveta glared darkly in response.

"And it's nice to know you're still a bitter, petulant child, Gilly." Elizaveta sniffed the words, keeping his gaze so he could read her lips and insult, a cool, indifferent expression settling over the hurt and anger like a veil. "But I suppose every family needs one."

"I hardly think I need to remind you, but if you do not conduct yourself in an appropriate manner towards Elizaveta, you will be sleeping in the stables again. We're all adults, we can surely act like it and stay civil for everyone else's sake." Roderich did not sound angry (he sounded like he was discussing the weather or something equally mundane), but Arthur could recognize it behind the aristocrat's eyes. He'd certainly seen his father stare at certain clients that way plenty of times before.

Gilbert had turned away in the middle of Roderich's declaration, but Seychelles gave Roderich a firm nod in agreement as she stepped forward and patted Elizaveta on the shoulder. "I assure you that I will make sure he understands the consequences of his actions. We're very grateful for any aid you can give us and certainly do not wish to make either of you uncomfortable while we're here."

Roderich nodded politely and Elizaveta regained her bright smile, hugging Seychelles again before she motioned everyone to get in the carriages, grabbing Lily's hand carefully and leading her and Vash to what Arthur presumed was her own carriage. "Well, in you go! We've got dinner all set up, and I'm sure you'd all like to freshen up before! Don't worry about rooms. We'll have to pair you up since the crew has grown, but there's plenty of room for everyone!"

Roderich nodded again and followed after his wife, falling into step with Vash and talking to him in low tones. Arthur glanced over at Alfred, who shrugged and led them over to a carriage that Kiku was already climbing into; he felt bad for whoever got stuck with Gilbert (aside from Francis), but he certainly wasn't willing to sacrifice himself and put up with the deaf man. Once everyone and their belongings were loaded in, Roderich gave an order and they were off; Arthur took a deep, silent breath and hoped that they would find what they needed to find during their stay here.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Matthew was cold and uncomfortable.

He shifted against the straw pallet that served as his bed and wrapped his arms around his body, wishing he had some sort of blanket to ward off the bitter chill that found its way through the rock and stone and straight into his little cell. He blinked at the wall and wondered what time it was outside—the only sense of time he had was when food was delivered by the small, terrifying young woman Matthew had come to know as Natalia. He'd heard of her before from the different stories Alfred would tell when he came home, but he had honestly hoped to never meet her. Now, she was assigned to be his babysitter.

He guessed that he'd been captured by Ivan somewhere close to three weeks ago, but it was hard to say for sure. The hours and days all blended together in the cell, and wherever he was, the sun shone rarely enough that it perpetually looked gray outside. Not that he really could see the outside of Ivan's base, but he could never see any sun reflected in the hallways when he peeked. His first memory after being attacked and hearing poor little Christian's terrified screaming was being dragged through a cavern, Ivan holding him up on one side with Toris on the other. He had been irrationally happy to see Toris at first, since he'd worried about his friend terribly since his capture, but that had quickly evaporated once Ivan realized he was awake. He had been tugged through winding corridors made of ragged and smooth stone, giving him the impression they might be somewhere underground, but there was no way to be sure. Then he'd been tossed into his cell and Ivan had said he'd send him company soon.

That company had turned out to be Natalia.

That was maybe three weeks ago. He hadn't been let out of his cell since then, aside from once a week when Natalia took him out, blind-folded him, and marched him to a tiled room where he was allowed to bathe. Ivan had not visited him since then, and if Natalia didn't mutter and murmur madly while she guarded his cell, he'd be stuck in absolute silence; he had been so scared those first few days, but now he was restless and found himself almost wishing for a visit from anyone but the insane girl guarding him. It was an odd feeling, being so completely terrified and utterly bored at the same time.

Matthew still had no idea why he'd been taken by Ivan in the first place; he'd exhausted every plausible reason he could think of and yet still he could not come up with a reason why he'd been left alone for so long if he was supposed to taunt Alfred. Why would he choose to take Matthew now? It hadn't even been much of an effort for Ivan to kidnap him - which made Matthew feel just wonderful about himself - so why had he waited? He occasionally got snippets of information out of Natalia when she talked to herself, but mainly it concerned some man named Sadiq and had no relation as to why Ivan wanted to his brother and was using Matthew now. What he did learn was that Alfred was last in Spandow and he had either done something to upset Ivan or had actually stopped one of Ivan's plans. Maybe both.

Matthew blinked and focused his attention to the steps he heard echoing outside his cell. He didn't know what time it was, but he knew that whenever Natalia was not outside his cell no sound echoed for hours; he'd assumed it was night then and people were sleeping. Hearing someone outside now was odd; he pushed himself off the pallet and walked over to the door, peeking out from the small, barred window that served as the only opening in his prison. He didn't see anyone in his limited viewpoint and now that he was up, he didn't hear any footsteps either—he truly hoped he wasn't starting to go crazy in his confinement.

"Matthew, are you awake?" Matthew smiled and felt a swell of relief bloom up within him at the sound of Toris's voice.

"I am, what are you—are you here to—does anyone know you're here?" His voice sounds hoarse and unused to his ears, not at all like it usually did. If he hadn't said the words, he wouldn't have been able to recognize the voice as his own. Toris's face appeared before him on the other side of the bars, blue eyes worried, expression drawn but he looked determined.

"I came to make sure you were all right. Matthew, I—I'm so sorry that, I didn't want to but he—I'm sorry I helped dragged you into all of this!" Matthew felt a pang of fondness for his friend rise up within him—here Toris was, the captive of a psychotic, very powerful man for the past year and a half, and he was worried about Matthew and how he was. Matthew was an empath, even if his ability had been taken, and Toris was by far the most compassionate person he'd ever meant. Maybe a little too compassionate, to be honest; Matthew chalked it up to his being a healer.

"Not your fault. Don't blame yourself." Silence filled the space between them for a moment before Matthew found his voice again. "Do you know why I'm here? I mean, I know it's about Alfred, but I can't figure out why he waited three years. Do you know?"

Toris did know, Matthew could tell by how troubled the healer's face became and how he bit his lower lip. He waited anxiously and leaned forward so part of his face rested in between the cold, metal bars. "It—it has to do with a new crew member. Alfred and him are, well… involved, I guess? Eduard said he saw your brother kissing him and Ivan saw and got—really, really mad. He went after you almost immediately and forced me to come in case you needed to be healed. Ivan won't tell anyone what he plans to do now that you're here though, not even Oksana or Natalia."

Matthew didn't quite know what to make of that. Alfred was 'involved' with someone? Alfred, the boy who never so much as glanced at all the pretty girls and besotted boys who used to follow him around like puppies back home, _that _Alfred? The boy who still blushed whenever Francis or Gilbert told dirty jokes or when Seychelles had swam in nothing but her underclothes in the lake by their house the last time they visited? Oh, he knew his brother had been with a few people at home and some while traveling, but this—Ivan wouldn't have been angry over a dalliance. Matthew was torn between feeling happy for his brother at finding someone who actually caught his attention for more than a second and, for some reason, angry with him at the same time. He didn't know why he felt angry at his brother—it made him feel guilty. He swallowed the odd lump he felt form at the back of his throat and tried to push the mess of emotions down and away for the moment.

"Re-really? Well that—that's just great, isn't it." He sighed and diverted his eyes away from Toris's caring, concerned gaze. He took another deep breath and opened his mouth to say something, anything else, but before he could, Toris pressed a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and scared. Matthew gave him a confused look before he heard it, the stomp of heavy boots against stone—Ivan.

"Go back, Toris."

His words were a whispered breath and Toris didn't argue the order, backing away from the door and out of sight as the stomps grew closer and closer. Matthew stepped away from the door and came to rest against one of the walls near the small latrine he'd been given; he could only hope that Toris was able to sneak away and out of sight before Ivan came—though, Matthew had a nasty feeling that Ivan already knew Toris had been there. It was just too convenient that Ivan would show up for the first time in weeks on the night that Toris paid him a 'late-night' visit. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down his heartbeat; when he reopened his eyes, he was met with Ivan's wide smile and the eerie glow his eyes always seemed to have. He straightened his spine and clenched his hands closed to quell their shaking.

Ivan opened the cell door with an ominous creak, his hands clasped behind his back as he stepped inside. "Having trouble sleeping, comrade?"

Matthew wasn't sure how to respond at first so he remained quiet. Ivan did not seem to mind this silence and continued speaking as if Matthew had answered him. "It can be hard to adjust to Ruthenia after living in Merica so long, _da_? All that sunlight there…it is absent here. It is very sad to think about."

"Sad?" The question escaped Matthew's lips before he could think to stop it. Ivan tilted his head and smiled gently at him, patronizingly, as if Matthew was a boy asking where babies came from.

"Because one land lives in the sun, happy and carefree with its wealth, while another is left to rot in Winter's grip. No one cares about this land anymore, and it is sad. But I did not come here to talk to you about what is fair and what isn't. Did you enjoy your chat with Brother Toris?"

Matthew hated it when he was right. "I've missed him. He's my friend."

Ivan nodded as if he agreed with Matthew's words. "I am sure you both had much to catch up on. It is nice being reunited with him, though? What did you two discuss?"

It was hard to breathe steadily. "His friends, my friends. He misses them, he wanted to make sure they were all right. I told him they were fine the last I heard. It was - it was nice talking to someone I knew. I've been locked in here with no one to talk to for the past few weeks. He felt bad."

Ivan nodded again and moved to clasp his hands together in front of his body. "Brother Toris always worries for others—but what he doesn't understand is that he should spend more time focusing on his new family now. The past is the past, and it does not do to focus on it. He has a hard time remembering that, no matter all the wonders and good he will do here with our family." Ivan's eyes turned hard and he pinned Matthew with a stare. "He told you why you're here after so long. You were lying before."

His empathy, Matthew thought bitterly. Of course Ivan was using it and could hear the lie in his heartbeat and voice, like he had done for so long. "What does it matter? You've made it clear none of us are going anywhere."

"He disobeyed me; that matters." Ivan chuckled softly in the quiet of the cell. "But I suppose you do have a right to know why I have chosen you to stay here with my family. Perhaps his punishment will be light, an example and nothing more."

In the wake of those careless, cruel words, Matthew glared at Ivan hotly as all the anger flowing through his veins rushed to the surface, hot and spitting. "If you think that holding me captive will make my brother view you as anything other than scum, you're wrong. He hates you and he'll just hate you more—your petty attempts to try and keep his attention on you are so pathetic I could—"

Matthew didn't get to finish the rush of abuse because Ivan's hand darted out, wrapped around his throat and slammed him, hard, into the stone wall of the cell; his hands immediately flew to the iron-like hand choking him and instinctually tried to pry it away. He felt a flutter of panic overpower the anger when Ivan used Alfred's stolen strength and lifted his feet off the ground, eyes glowing in the dark and narrowed in a rare display of anger. Ivan stepped close and pushed all of his considerable weight against the hand pushing down on Matthew's throat, the hand not choking him slammed hard into the stone beside his head. "There is nothing 'petty' about what _I_ am doing. Your brother is _needed_ and refuses to understand. If I must make him see that he is needed, that his useless distractions threaten _everything_, and use you to do it, then I will. I will make you all understand!"

His grip tightened once more before he dropped Matthew suddenly; he crumpled like a sack of potatoes and alternated between gulping in air and choking to get more in. He could feel Ivan's stare on him for a few lingering seconds before it drifted off and the tall man backed away towards the cell door, steps crisp and unhurried. "Brother Toris will see to your injuries under Sister Natalia's supervision after I speak with him. Try to get some sleep, comrade; you will need it if you are expected to pull your weight in our home tomorrow."

Matthew didn't look up to meet the eerie eyes or haunting smile he knew Ivan wore, and was grateful for when the door creaked shut and washed everything back into darkness.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

*Olympia – a city in Washington state

*Londonium – the capitol of Roman Britannia which would become modern day London.

Again, sorry for the delay. *bows*

I know I kind of harp this, but please, if you read, alert, favorite, or just plain enjoy this story, please be kind enough to review and let me know. I've been kind of disheartened lately with the lack of reviews that seem to be floating around and it would really make me feel just tons better reading if you all enjoyed this chapter.

Until next time!

Osco


	16. Chapter 16

Title : Of Silence and Thievery  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: Fast update anyone? Everyone, I have exciting news, as of today 4/9/11, Silence and Thievery is 1 year old! I want to take a moment to thank each and every one of you who's either stuck with me from the beginning, been reading along as I go, or just started reading this beast and have given me such wonderful support and encouragement! I hope you all like this chapter, there IS some USUK in here for all you patient readers!

Note 2: Thank you again EllaRose C for reading this over, you're the bestest! Also, sorry for the reupload...FFN was not being cooperative yesterday DX

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter Sixteen: Where There are Missing People and Thicker Walls_

Nikolai stepped out of the water, let it fall away from him, and blinked a bit to allow his eyes to adjust to the sunlight after being underwater for so long. He could feel stares on him as he climbed out of the marina and onto the cobbled streets of Spandow's port but he ignored them and worked at pulling the water from his clothing so they were left dry. He siphoned the excess water back into the river, spared a softer look for a group of children who were watching him with undisguised wonder, and headed towards the bustle of the city. His head still felt fuzzy, an aftereffect of being cocooned underwater for so long, but the more he walked the more it cleared. He reminded himself that he would have to send Tino a message letting him know he'd made it to Spandow all right; he didn't want the kinder man to worry about him senselessly.

He drew a few looks due to his appearance but was ignored for the most part as the citizens went about their daily business. He honestly preferred it that way, not looking to draw anyone's attention when he knew what went on in this city. He wouldn't have stepped foot in Spandow, or any of Germania, if he could have helped it but he knew that the _Evangeline_ had sailed here after leaving the Nords. He had little choice in the matter; and though he may hate the country for the truly despicable slave trade that existed among the wealthy and the connected, the consequences of not coming were much direr. When the Balance was in peril, his discomfort and distaste certainly did not matter.

He walked along the roads and studied the unfamiliar city signs and markers, relieved that Common was listed underneath the native language; he would have been completely lost if he was left to decipher foreign languages on his own. Understanding and speaking other languages was Oskar's skill, not his. He came to a stop at a large, busy crossroads and turned to a local street vendor, hoping he could point him in the right direction; his destination was conspicuously absent from the markers.

"Excuse me, do you know where I can find the Market?" Nikolai did not smile at the vendor but he did nod in thanks when the vendor gave a gap-toothed smile and nodded his head.

"Sure, you follow the South road, just past the merchant's quarters. Can't miss it."

"Thank you." Nikolai set off down the street the vendor had pointed out to him. He needed to locate Ludwig's inn yes, but he also had to discuss what was happening with the Balance with the shaman who often set up shop in Spandow. The man had visited Nikolai and his Brothers some years past and had claimed he was a representative and servant of the Balance; he had proved it by showing his mastery over the magic that flowed through him. He had said to come to him if they ever heard any concerning whispers within the elements about the Balance. That made sense to Nikolai; the elements were so interconnected with the Balance it made him and his Brothers the ones most in tune with it. Even more so than shamans and witches who channeled the magic. It hadn't hurt his credibility either that the shaman had some sort of personal past with Ivan Braginski and was determined in trying to stop him—Nikolai believed that was a large factor as to why the shaman took such a strong interest in the Balance. Ivan had recently attacked them and had nearly succeeded in defeating Berwald, so the fact that the shaman was against Ivan just made him more trustworthy.

Following the vendor's instructions proved fruitful and soon Nikolai found himself amidst a swathe of color, rich aromas and noise. He had never been to the Market but Mathias had and had told Nikolai about it before, generally while telling some ridiculous story that involved his damn pole-axe and a 'nefarious' Troll. Nikolai did not stop to admire the different slight-of-hand or acrobatic tricks from performers and thoroughly ignored the many calls from merchants to browse through their wares. The shaman had told them he was in a more exotic part of the market and that his booth was red and gold; _that_ was all Nikolai cared about finding. It took him some time to weave and move through the crowded Market but eventually he found a section of booths that felt quite a bit different than the rest.

He felt real magic thrumming in the air and the vendors and merchants had the distinct look of those who channeled power; their prices were also quite a bit more expensive then what he had seen in the other parts of the Market. He walked around and studied the different booths but he could not find one that appeared to be the shaman's. There was blue and silver, black and yellow, bronze and blood red, and many other combinations but nothing that matched the colors he was looking for. He debated over asking the other merchants present about the shaman, but before he could decide to do so or not, he heard a tinkle in the air and turned to face two small, curious fairies.

"Sir! Sir! You can see us yes? Of course, of course you can—you're Water! It is an honor to meet you good Sir, an honor!" The fairy who gushed at him was the bigger of the two, with dark blue wings and dark hair that went to her tiny feet. Her companion was all white save for a pair of very dark eyes that blinked at him in wonder; she did not seem to speak Common and the only sound that escaped from her sounded like tiny bells. He blinked at the two of them and inclined his head in greeting—these were not the first fairies he'd seen, or even the first Fey creatures, and he had long learned ago that while fairies appeared quite sweet and good, they often were selfish and cruel. Not all, but enough.

"I am Nikolai, it is an honor to meet you both."

The taller fairy flittered around his head before she stopped right in front of his nose. "Nikolai sir, we are very pleased to meet you! Not often does one of the elements travel south. I am Maribel and my friend is Periwinkle! Come come, we have lots of wonderful goods for you browse through—"

"While I appreciate the offer, I must decline. I am not here to do dealings with fairies." Nikolai kept his voice calm but he made sure that Maribel understood what he meant, that he was not in the mood for any of their antics and knew better than to indulge them. The fairy frowned and clasped her hands together a bit nervously.

"We-we meant no offence Sir, no none at all! We would _never_ ever try to trick one the Balance has so blessed! Please, please do not be angry with us, we could never take the shame!"

Little Periwinkle jangled sadly from his shoulder and blinked her wide eyes up at him imploringly. Nikolai studied them both for a moment before he decided their concern was genuine and not an act; he nodded at them both in acceptance of their apology, his lips turning up ever so slightly. Maribel nearly lit up happily and clapped her hands together in giddiness. "Oh thank you, thank you kind Sir! We are ever so grateful—please, please tell us how we can be of help to you! Perhaps our wares do not interest you but surely we can help in some way!"

Nikolai nearly shook his head no, wanting to distance himself from the fairies as soon as possible, but he paused as an idea came to mind. "Actually, there is something you could help me with. I'm looking for a shaman by the name of Yao. He said he had a booth in Market but I have yet to find him."

Maribel tucked her hands under her chin and shook her head slowly; Periwinkle gave a sad jingle and flew to sit upon his head. "Elder Yao left, Nikolai sir! He left when the hunters left and he hasn't been back since. Look, his booth is empty!" The fairy pointed behind Nikolai to a small, curtained booth that did indeed appear red and gold, though the colors were faded and the fabric appeared to be little more than rags.

"Gone…wonderful." Nikolai muttered the words to himself, but the fairies jingled in response. "Do you know why he left? And who are the 'hunters?'"

Periwinkle flew off his head and Maribel flew in closer, almost close enough to touch his nose. "He left without telling anyone, but we could see his distress! Oh yes, he looked most unhappy before he left, but as to why, we cannot say. And the hunters are the one who travel on the sea and chase after the bad man, the one who steals!"

The _Evangeline_. Nikolai nodded and narrowed his eyes at the dilapidated, empty booth. "Did Elder Yao leave with these hunters?"

"Oh no, oh not at all! One of them does not like Elder Yao very much. No, Elder Yao left with them, but not _with_ them, understand? Though, I think Elder Yao would have gone with the hunters if he could have, they all are very important you know! One, one can even see us! He promised he would help the mother Earth for us and we gave him something nice!" Nikolai turned sharply to focus his attention back on the fairies.

"You made a deal with one of them?" The question was quick and severe. "What did you deal? Tell me."

Maribel looked a tad nervous again, but defiance dominated her face and she did not back down at the tone of his voice; that didn't bode well, especially when she had been so quick to apologize and simper at him before. Periwinkle made a high pitched noise and flew away back to their stall. "It was a _good_ deal! We liked him, he was powerful, like you—he could help and we helped him…he needed it!"

"At what price?" Nikolai met her stare impassively, unimpressed by her impassioned defense. He knew the Fey and Faerie; what was 'good' in their world did not always translate to 'good' for everyone else. She harrumphed and crossed her arms over her chest but did not answer his question, which told him his instincts were right. He breathed out through his nose in an effort to calm his anger and redirected the conversation. "Who made the deal with you?"

Maribel sniffed but seemed to settle down at the switch in his voice, reacting more favorably to the calm tone than the more direct one he'd been using. "A worthy person. One who had been stolen from and wanted to help."

"A name?"

The fairy shrugged. "There are so many names from so many people; you cannot expect us to remember all of them. He needed help speaking though, and we gave him what he needed in exchange."

The mute, Nikolai was nearly sure of it. He doubted he was going to get what the actual deal entailed though, not out of Maribel at least. She had already started using riddles and was refusing to give names he was sure she remembered—she would give him nothing more. "I have one more question for you then. I am looking for an inn and it's an inn that these 'hunters' would have visited and stayed at; can you tell me which direction I should take to reach them? I would be most grateful."

She smiled and clapped her hands flying up to his shoulder and pointing at the exit from the market straight past the booths. "Oh yes, I can surely help you find that place! It is straight up this road, has a red roof, and is named after a tree!" She dropped her smile suddenly and looked down sadly. "The broken ones stay there, it is so very sad what has happened to them. They had been so blessed by the Balance."

Nikolai nodded and turned his gaze to stare up the cobbled road that led out of the Market. "I assume you mean the Vargas twins. It's well known what happened to them."

Maribel nodded, a soft tinkle coming from her as Periwinkle flew up and hugged her around the waist. "Yes, so very sad. Are you going there now, Nikolai sir?"

He nodded. "I need to speak with the hunters, that innkeeper can tell me where they went from here."

"About the Balance?" Nikolai turned slowly and met Maribel's eyes, her small, beautiful face for once not infused with happiness and cheer. She looked serious and calculating; Nikolai imagined this was how she looked to humans and others who crossed her or upset her in some manner. "We know and can feel it, it feels very sick. You will help it, yes?"

Nikolai nodded slowly. "If I can."

"Good! We are ever so worried but also heartened if one such as you is fighting to help! If you ever need any more help, or make a very good purchase, please come see us again!" Maribel bowed deeply and flew away, leaving Periwinkle to jangle once more before vanishing from sight. He stared at the empty space for a moment before he turned back towards the exit and made his way up the road to find the inn.

He thought about the words echoed between him and the fairy while he walked, mulling over the fact that she had made a deal and that the shaman, Yao, had disappeared from the Market. He wasn't sure what to make of that disappearance but he had a gut feeling that whatever the answer was, it didn't bode well for the state of the Balance. And that deal—he had seen what could come from a fairy's deal and he knew that as harmless as one may sound, they rarely were. He needed to speak with Arthur Kirkland and see what exactly he'd promised and what he'd been given in return; there was a chance that if he hadn't used whatever the fairies had given him the deal was not yet valid, but he couldn't know that without confirming first. He didn't hold much hope for the possibility of him not using whatever he'd been given; the fairy had said it would help him and knew he couldn't speak. There was a very good chance that whatever she'd given him would help him talk somehow. His mind traveled back to Berwald at the thought; he doubted anyone cursed to silence would be able to resist that sort of gift.

The walk wasn't as long as he anticipated and soon enough he found himself in front of a neat looking inn with a red roof and a name of The Black Willow. He blinked up at the sign before he pushed open the door, looking around the slightly crowded inn until his eyes spotted a large, blond man behind the counter. He had never met Gilbert's brother, but he could see the physical similarities and could sense the same flow of water in the blood as Gilbert's. He ignored the glances he drew from some of the patrons and took a seat at the bar; he was seated for only a moment when he felt another body sit beside him, close, and heard a foolish giggle.

"New face! You're all white, can barely see you—do you worry about fading away? Do you like pasta? Pasta makes you strong, makes you not so sick!" Nikolai met a vacant, golden-brown stare before the blond man turned and spoke softly, soothingly, as if he was speaking to a child and not a young man.

"He's not sick, Feliciano, his skin is simply pale. You do not need to worry for him—go on and help your brother with the tomatoes. You promised you'd help."

The fool nodded with movements that normally Nikolai would have thought exaggerated. He did not think that was the case with this young man. "Can I smash them? They squish and squish and squish and—"

"Yes, but only with your hands. People don't like to eat sauce made with feet." Feliciano giggled and slid off the stool, skipping to a backroom while he sang a tuneless song about pasta and sauce. The blond watched him like a hawk until he went into the backroom before he turned to greet Nikolai for the first time. "You'll have to excuse him, he can't help himself. Can I get you a drink or are you looking for a room?"

"Water please, and may I ask if your name is Ludwig?"

The man nodded absently as he filled a glass of water with practiced ease and slid it to Nikolai. "If my brother's done something to your sister or daughter or mother, he's not here at the moment, but I'll be sure to let you know when he comes back."

"No, I'm not looking for your brother, not alone at least. My name is Nikolai, I'm an acquaintance of his from the Nords."

Ludwig paused in his motions and met Nikolai's eyes, recognition plain on his face. "You one of those acquaintances that's got brothers?"

Nikolai felt a small smirk tug at his lips and wondered if Gilbert had taught Ludwig to say that in case there were unfriendly ears about who could learn the Nordic Brothers were one short at the moment. He would have to thank the _Evangeline_ crew if that was the case; it was very thoughtful to take into consideration their need for privacy. "I have four yes."

Ludwig nodded and set down his rag and poured a tankard of what looked like beer for himself. "You're awfully far from home."

"And I'll be farther still. Did your brother leave with his usual group of friends?" Ludwig nodded and took a large swig of his drink. "Do you know where they went?"

"They're headed down to Pannonia, visiting a 'friend' of his in Vindobona. They sailed up the river three or four weeks ago and were planning to sail through the Medii. I wouldn't be surprised if they were nearly there already. Why are you looking for my brother and his friends?"

"I have a message to give one of them, a rather important one." Nikolai took a sip of his water. "You're sure that is where they are headed, that their plans have not changed?"

"That's where they're headed. Just sent a courier to their contact there a week ago that they were coming; got a message from Kiku letting me know. It must be an important message for you to travel so far to give it personally." Nikolai hummed in response but did not reply. "Do you need to rest up a bit before heading out? I can give a room free of charge, best deal I promise you'll find in this city."

"That—that would be welcome, thank you." Nikolai felt the urge to hurry and not waste time but he couldn't deny that he felt exhausted and a night sleeping in a bed as opposed to a beach or tide pool was very appealing. He did not mind staying among his element, but he was still human and enjoyed a warm bed most of the time. Not to mention he'd grown rather used to a warm bed since Mathias was practically a living furnace due to his element. Ludwig nodded and downed the last of his beer before motioning Nikolai to follow him up the stairs.

"We'll be serving dinner at around six; you know Antonio?" Nikolai nodded as he followed. "Yes, well he'll be there as well."

"May I ask you another question, Ludwig?"

"Of course."

"Did any of the crew of the _Evangeline_ pick something up in the Market that you saw?"

"You're talking about that pendant that Arthur Kirkland picked up." Nikolai nodded again as Ludwig turned from the door he was unlocking and met his eyes. "I don't know much about it but Antonio might, you can ask him when he's over for dinner later. Until then, I suggest you rest; you've traveled a long way and I've found the best way to recover from a journey is to relax whenever you can. I'll send Feliciano up to get when dinner's ready."

Ludwig nodded tersely and made his way out of the room, leaving Nikolai alone. He let out a long breath and turned to survey the room, his mind a whirlpool of thoughts and concerns that he hoped Antonio Carriedo held at least some of the answers to.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

The ride through Vindobona was pleasant and over sooner than Arthur would have liked. He had no doubt that there was a grimier, seedier part of the city around, but it was miles away from the lovely streets and neighborhoods the carriages led them through; Arthur found himself falling for the city a little more. The buildings they passed were all bright and well built, the scenery was littered with fresh flowers and trees in bloom, and the people were friendly and well-dressed. It was entirely different from Spandow, which had unfortunately been tainted by what Arthur had seen in the brothel and alleyways, and after weeks at sea, the city was a breath of fresh air. And while it did remind him of Londinium at certain angles, it seemed livelier and happier than the cloudy Britannia capitol and he almost wished they had walked through the city to the Edelsteins' home.

Kiku and Alejandro had joined them in their carriage, the latter sitting in his usual, taciturn silence while Kiku spoke to Alfred about the different things that were needed from the markets. It had been decided amongst the crew that Seychelles and Vash would assist Arthur in combing through Roderich's library in search for something that help pinpoint what Arthur had seen to a physical location, while the rest would either stock up on supplies or help on any repairs to the ship. Arthur was happy with that arrangement for the most part (as he certainly could use help in searching through a library—he imagined he'd be quite irritable if they'd left it to him alone), even if it meant his time with Alfred was limited. He actually felt annoyed at himself that _that_ was what he was unhappy about regarding their duties—certainly made him feel like a lovesick girl who couldn't bear to be separated from her significant other for more than five minutes. Perhaps it was just because he'd grown so accustomed to having Alfred nearby constantly aboard the ship and the idea of spending so much time apart was strange; well, he certainly liked that explanation than the one that likened him to lovesick sop.

He had actually been pleased to get both Seychelles and Vash since he got along with both of them well and they both were quite diligent about their duties. Arthur imagined he would've been ready to kill something if he'd been paired with Francis (who was an utterly lazy bastard and would have provided no help anyway due to his lack of sight) or Esther (who made it clear she found little value in books) or Gilbert (who was likely going to be making an arse out of himself the entire time they were in Vindobona). Seychelles would probably be the more useful of the two since she'd been navigating the seas and merchant lines for years, but Arthur knew he would no more dedicated a man than Vash. Lily may have been feeling better but Arthur knew that her sickness on board the ship was still bright in Vash's mind—he would do anything he had to if it meant they found Ivan.

"There it is, Artie, that's their house! Big, huh?" Arthur was jostled out of his musings and followed Alfred's pointing finger to look out the carriage window at a large, stately looking manor. 'House' really wasn't an appropriate term, not unless five different families all lived there. It was large, larger than what Arthur had envisioned, and had polished, curving walls and raised towers on either side of the manor. Ivy grew up the sides and contrasted pleasantly with the white-washed ivory of the stone; the roof was made from an expensive red clay Arthur knew came from Espana. The ornate gates were opened by a pair of guards and the carriages pulled into a private, circular path that led straight up to the entry hall; in the center of the path, there was a large fountain of a near naked woman surrounded by roses and magnolias. It was by far the fanciest home Arthur had ever seen, and he felt a thrill of childish excitement that they were actually going to be staying there while in Vindobona.

"I love staying here—we should really listen to Liz and start visiting more often!" Alfred laughed and flashed a grin over at their companions, earning a small smile out of Kiku but nothing but a grunt from Alejandro. "And wait until you see the garden, Arthur, it's awesome! Liz might've had her gift stolen but she's still great with plants and stuff."

Arthur nodded but didn't respond as the carriage came to a stop and the driver opened the door for them. They tumbled out and made to grab their bags, but were thwarted by a handful of doormen and butlers—Arthur stared at them, his hand itching to reach out and grab his own bloody bags, but he resisted the urge. He didn't know how aristocracy could be so comfortable doing so little for themselves, but he supposed it was just a part of their world and something he would never understand being raised outside it. Though, Elizaveta was perfectly content carrying Lily's bags, even though some of the footmen tried to take them off of her—Arthur was honestly having a hard time seeing how Elizaveta fit together with Roderich when, in the very brief time he'd seen them, they appeared to be completely different. He kept that little observation to himself though; he could only imagine the can of worms that would be opened if he mentioned _that_ to anyone. Besides, he'd only known them for around fifteen minutes, he was sure his observation was of little worth to anyone who really knew them.

"Ok, you all gather around me! These gents," Elizaveta motioned her head at the waiting butlers and doormen, "are going to take you up to your rooms but we've got to pair you up because there's a whole lot more of you here this time then last time! It's a big house but it's not made of bedrooms!"

"I assure you though that you will be plenty comfortable," Roderich interjected quietly.

Elizaveta beamed at her husband and nodded enthusiastically. "Ok, now, Vash, obviously you'll be with Lily. Then…you the big fellow, Sadiq? Yes Sadiq, you and Alejandro. And Rosa with Esther. Francis and _you_," she sneered at Gilbert who made a face at her after she turned away, "And Kiku and 'Chelles, though you better behave like a gentleman mister! And that leaves…oh! Well I guess Alfred and Arthur! They we are, all sorted. Oh, 'Chelles I'm sorry you're with a man but you've got the only guest room with two washrooms. So it works out all right!"

Arthur met Elizaveta's smile and was torn between whether he should hug her or throw something at her—they way she had seemed 'surprised' to have roomed Arthur with Alfred was just too put upon to be real. Though, she still had provided them a room together which Arthur certainly wasn't going to complain about—a house this large was surely well insulated and had its rooms spread out enough to avoid any awkward morning confrontations. Well, put that way, he could surely forgive her antics—Elizaveta handed off Lily's belongings to Vash and clapped her hands together.

"Right then, Vash and Lily who know where to go, you two," she pointed at Gilbert and Francis, "Follow Jon there and you ladies, after Jaques. I hope you don't mind Alejandro, but you both will be in the big room downstairs just past the kitchens. 'Chelles and Kiku, follow Paulo if you please. And as for you two, Pierre, would you mind taking them up to the room in the east wing?"

"Of course, my Lady."

"Wonderful! Now, get some rest and we'll ring you all down for dinner in a few hours!" Elizaveta gave another round of hugs (this time hugging Francis, still studiously ignoring Gilbert) before she waved them off and followed after Roderich, who had already begun walking Lily and Vash to their rooms. The was a moment of stillness before they all broke out in movement, took their things off the doormen, and followed after the chaperone Elizaveta had assigned to them, relaxed, happy chatter breaking out between most of them. Pierre, a tall, dark-haired man who had flecks of gray peppered throughout, nodded at Arthur and Alfred in turn and then motioned them to follow after him. Arthur glanced back and couldn't help but notice the majority of others were going in the opposite direction—Alfred noticed too (surprisingly).

"I've never been over here! Why are we the only ones going up to this part of the house?"

"The room Miss Elizaveta has picked for you both has a bit more privacy than the others." Pierre did not glance back at them as he answered, marching them up a spiral of stairs and down a hall that smelled of oak and was dressed in dark, rich rugs and cherry-wood panels. Arthur turned to meet Alfred's gaze in near perfect tandem, a hot flush covering his cheeks at the butler's words—his lips quirked up in a small, smirking smile in response to Alfred's bright grin. "You will have a washroom to share and may leave anything that must be washed in the basket near the door, the maids will pick it up each morning. Lord Roderich has intimated that dinner will be served at six this evening, so you have a few hours to rest and freshen up; if you choose to explore the house, I do ask you request one of us to assist you. Is there anything else you need at this time?"

Arthur shook his head as they came to a stop in front of a pair of tall, curving doors, his hand tightening on the strap of his rucksack. "Nah, we're good. And we'll be on time for dinner, so don't worry!"

Pierre nodded at Alfred's words and unlocked the doors, opening them wide for the pair of them. "Then I'll take my leave."

He gave a stiff bow and walked away from them back down the hall, leaving them to their own devices—Alfred pushed the doors open wide and let out an appreciative whistle at the lavish room, dropping his bags loudly on the floor. He turned and grinned at Arthur before he let out a childish yell and launched himself on top of the large bed with a running leap, bouncing a few times before he went still. "Oh man, we _really_ need to come and visit Liz more often! I love staying here, and would you look at the size of this thing? You could seriously live in this bed!"

Arthur felt his mouth go dry as his brain took in the sight of Alfred _on_ the rather large bed, glasses askew from his leap, hair a mess; but before he could move, Alfred was bouncing off and wandering into the washroom. Arthur slid his bag off his shoulder and deposited it and his tablet with quill on a sitting chair set up around a small fireplace in the corner of the room. "Awesome, they've got a bath and one of those stand-up washers in here! And man, this tub is huge, you could drown in it! Though you'd have to be pretty dumb to drown in a tub but still—and there's even a window here that looks out over the city!"

Was he _really_ going on about a blasted window in a bathroom? _Alfred._

"There's a fireplace in here? Man, I'm gonna get Liz for holding out on us with this room!" Alfred rushed out from the washroom and was now wandering around the room, all wonder and excitement (not all that unlike a puppy to be honest) as he poked around the room. Arthur tried again.

_Alfred._

"—wonder if we've got one of those little bells or cords or something to get someone when we want something!"

_Alfred!_

"What? Jeez, Iggy I'm right here, don't need to yell in my head, you're not exactly quiet you know. In fact I'm pretty sure you sound even louder than usual because it's only me hearing your voice and—"

Arthur had had quite enough. He closed the distance between them, grabbed Alfred's face roughly and kissed him hard enough to make Alfred emit a muffled squeak (which he took _great_ pride in). Alfred floundered for a moment, clearly taken surprise by Arthur's sudden attack, but his hands found Arthur's back and his hair eventually. He inhaled sharp through his nose as he returned Arthur's kiss with equal excitement (and not-so-equal sloppiness). Arthur felt light and heady and stumbled forward into Alfred's space until the younger man's back hit something solid and halted their movement. His hands ran up and down Alfred's chest until one buried in the golden hair and the other grasped the back of his neck; his lips nipped at Alfred's until his tongue was allowed entry, Alfred's darting out to meet his own as Alfred's hands pulled Arthur flush against his body so nothing separated them.

It felt so good to be able to touch and press and kiss Alfred without eyes constantly on them; constantly judging or assuming, or whatever-the-fuck Francis was imagining which never failed to make them uncomfortable. Arthur had never been someone who enjoyed parading his relationship in front of others (especially when said relationship was more meaningful and terrifying than any other one he'd had before). And while Alfred was much more outgoing and affable than Arthur was, he didn't care for his more personal feelings to be that widely accessible to everyone else. Frankly, after getting to know Alfred better the past few weeks, Arthur was of the opinion that he was actually a shy individual who just covered it up by talking very loudly. Not that he was acting very shy now, but Arthur believed his observation still held true.

Alfred flexed his back and pushed off from the wall, nearly yanking Arthur clear off the floor when he wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist and shuffled them towards the bed. It always took Arthur by surprise whenever Alfred's not-completely-stolen strength made itself known, that he could take all of Arthur's weight as if it were nothing. He couldn't quite figure out why it showed itself sometimes and why it didn't others, but Alfred didn't worry about it so Arthur tried not to as well. It was easier to just appreciate it whenever it showed up than worry about when it didn't. Like now, when Arthur could feel how strong Alfred's hands gripped and pulled at his body, holding him up with only one arm so the other could work its way under Arthur's shirt. Arthur worked his own hands over Alfred's clothing at the same time, not worried that Alfred was holding all of their combined weight which made the whole process of removing his jerkin and shirt much smoother. Their lips met again, somewhere along the line having lost one another, as they tumbled backwards onto the bed, Alfred's arm catching them both in time to stop them from kneeing each other.

Arthur rolled them over when he felt Alfred's knees dip into the bed, straddling Alfred's slim hips when they were both right side up again, his own shirt hanging onto half of his body and Alfred's gone completely. Arthur leaned down, his hands wrapping around Alfred's when they reached up to tug him the rest of the way down, and kissed him again, his own breath silent while Alfred's hitched. They were close, so very close together and Arthur felt a familiar lick of heat spiral up his spine as they continued to kiss in a frenzy, as if it had been months and months since they'd last touched. This was ridiculous as they kissed and touched on a near constant basis—but, those were more like brushes and teases, since anything further invited unwelcome onlookers. Nothing like what they were finally doing now.

"Ar-Arthur—Arthur all our clothes and stuff is—is dirty! They'll all fucking know if we have to change." Arthur pulled away and gave Alfred an annoyed glare—he did not appreciate being interrupted while kissing. Alfred was undeterred though, rotating his wrists so he could push Arthur up into a sitting position on his lap as he sat up himself.

_I highly doubt they think we're bloody knitting in here._

"Well yeah but—if we _look_ like we've been fooling around they'll be terrible, but if we don't then they can't say anything!"

_They'll say something anyway, they're gits. _Arthur could feel his lips turning down into a disappointed frown as Alfred gave him a pleading pout. He narrowed his eyes dangerously and shook his hands free to balance them on Alfred's shoulders. _Do you not want to kiss me?_

Arthur was not at all ashamed to say he enjoyed the way Alfred's eyes widened and he shook his head frantically in response to his question (which really hadn't been serious, Lady knew that Alfred had very much enjoyed kissing Arthur). "No! No I really, r_eally_ like kissing you, it's just I don't want to have all them sticking their noses in our business when they…they…you know all that anyway you jackass," Arthur hadn't been able to keep the smirk off his face. "Man, you're such a jerk, Artie. Maybe I don't want to kiss you now."

_You're a terrible liar, love. _Alfred pouted but it melted away when Arthur kissed him again. _But, if you'd be more comfortable with not appearing to the others looking a mess we certainly don't need to do anything that would require a change in clothes._

Alfred blinked at him and smiled a slow, warm smile. "Yeah?"

Arthur couldn't help but smile softly and nod (and feel vindicated again in the knowledge that Alfred _was_ quite shy) in answer. Alfred leaned in and kissed him soundly, leaning forward enough to tip Arthur backwards and crawl over him, a goofy grin spreading across his lips even as he kept on kissing. Arthur rolled his eyes before he moved his hands to Alfred's hair and kissed back, pressing every sigh, gasp, and hum he could not utter aloud against Alfred's lips as his eyes slipped closed—dinner, and Ivan, and everything else could kindly wait until they were quite done.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

I want to thank all of you who reviewed last time! It lifted my spirits incredibly! Please, if you read and liked this chapter, do me the favor and review, celebrate Silence and Thievery's birthday along with me!

Cheers!

Osco


	17. Chapter 17

Title : Of Silence and Thievery (17/30ish)  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: I'll just begin by apologizing for the delay in this chapter. You've no doubt been noticing I haven't stopped writing, just couldn't quite find the proper mojo for this story for a bit. I'm happy to say it is back and hopefully will stay. Your comments mean the world to me and I truly thank each and every one of you who take the time to write them. I hope you enjoy this installment, it's a long one!__

_******USUKUSUKUSUK**  
_

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter Seventeen: Where There are Lots of Books and Gardens_

Arthur slammed a thick, navigation tome shut with a silent grumble, glaring at the book's cover as if it had morally offended him. Which it had, in a way—what was the point of entitling a book _The Navigator's Book of Less-Traveled Lands_ if it didn't do what it stated on the tin? Yes, let's write a book about terrain and landmarks in little-visited lands but let's completely omit Ruthenia, the least-traveled land of all; that made a world of sense. He huffed and dropped the book back onto a cart to the side of his table before turning to the next book in his pile, this one entitled _Rare Landscapes and Where to Find Them_. Arthur held little hope that this book would be of any use either.

They had been at this for two days, Seychelles, Vash, and himself. Two days of looking over books and scrolls in Roderich's impressive library for anything that mentioned Ruthenia. Beyond a passage on the horrible terrain and weather or the dangers of the borders for countries that ran alongside the nation, that is. Two days of nothing but frustration and frayed tempers as they looked through book after book, scroll after scroll, and found nothing that was of any help to them. It was ridiculous, in Arthur's opinion, that there was such a blatant omission regarding Ruthenia from recent navigation books. It wasn't as if it was an ancient civilization that didn't exist anymore—it was a bloody huge country by the Lady's sake! There should have been more information on it than a snippet there and a passage here. But no matter how closely they combed through the materials, there was nothing detailed enough that gave them a good idea where to head. Oh, they mentioned mountain terrains all right, but there were so many in Ruthenia that without more detail for Arthur to match with what he saw, naming the hundreds of mountains that existed in Ruthenia was all but useless.

He rubbed at his eyes and glanced up for a moment, not quite up to opening the next book just to be disappointed. Seychelles was combing through faded scrolls at a bench in front of Arthur, her eye narrowed as she tried to read faded writing that detailed trade routes in Ruthenia which connected to the rest of the Byzantium. Further back, sitting at a table beside a window with Lily, Vash was looking through his own stack of books; his eyes were starting to twitch with every cover he slammed shut. Nearly everyone else had spent the last few days travelling in town and buying the necessary materials that they'd need to make the deep water journey to Zion, which would serve as the country they would dock and keep the ship while they travelled inland. Esther promised the ship would be safe there; Seychelles had not been comfortable with leaving the ship, at all, but of all the countries along the Byzantium coast, Zion was likely the safest option.

Arthur wished Alfred was there; maybe not helping because he'd be as useless as the books, but at least providing company. He shook his head and focused back down at the table and the book's cover. Alfred serving as a distraction would not help them find what they needed any quicker—and it didn't matter how nice the distraction could prove to be, he needed to focus. Arthur flipped open the book and scanned the table of contents for the section that dealt with Ruthenia; he frowned when he noticed it consisted of a whooping five pages. He swore silently, but flipped open to the section regardless—with Lily in the room, Arthur actually found himself thankful that he was silent, what with the amount coarse language he'd been spewing over the past few days. He did not need Vash's disapproval and anger heaped on him with everything else.

"Bloody mother, is there anything useful in these blasted books?" Arthur looked up at Seychelles, who had shoved her scroll away and was staring up at the ceiling moodily. "It's like they are deliberately obtuse regarding Ruthenia!"

"Well, it isn't exactly a well-desired land to travel, it's only natural recent narratives hold little to no detail regarding its routes or landmarks. The authors likely just found a generic passage regarding Ruthenia from another book and reworded it for their own purposes." Vash turned the page of his book slowly, not bothering to glance up.

"Lazy bastards. Roderich should demand a refund for these bloody things! You shouldn't say the scrolls are a 'comprehensive exploration of the modern world' if they clearly are not."

Vash grunted and flipped another page. "Would you call Ruthenia part of the modern world? I bet most wouldn't, not with the constant civil wars, isolation and poverty." Seychelles threw a dirty look Vash's way, but didn't argue his point. It was a valid one.

Lily hummed in sympathy and grabbed the hand cradling her brother's face, giving it a reassuring squeeze that Arthur saw relaxed some of the tension from Vash's shoulders. "It'll be okay, big brother, you'll find something, I know it!"

Seychelles spared Lily a small, sad smile before she flipped her braided hair back and looked over at Arthur. Normally, they both tried to keep their questions toward Arthur to a minimum so he didn't need to write on the tablet so much—it was easier when Alfred was there since he could translate for everyone else. She was looking at him now though, her one eye intent; he sighed to himself and grabbed his tablet and quill.

**Yes?**

She quirked her lips in the facsimile of a smile and got up from her bench and headed over his way. "Just wondering if you're as frustrated as the pair of us are. I see you're pile of books on the cart only seems to be growing."

**I haven't found anything. Yet.**

"Thought as much. This is a bloody nightmare, no wonder Ivan is hiding out in Ruthenia! Even knowing where he is doesn't help us one bit in locating him—calculating bastard."

"He's from there anyway. Probably feels more in control hiding in his homeland."

"Have you found _anything_ in those narratives? I thought some of those were older, from before Ruthenia's fall."

"They are, but even when Ruthenia was a powerful empire, they policed documents within their country and those published outside thoroughly. They didn't like the idea of the conquered nations, or free ones here in Avrupa, knowing their way around their country."

"They?"

"The government from that age. The Emperor Bruma*_,_ his cabinet, generals, and heirs. They were paranoid that if the secrets of their lands were leaked, they would become a target or it would give their conquered nations a chance to overthrow their rule. The result is that a lot of the travel logs and transportation records from that time are rather vague or in some kind of code I can't decipher—after the fall of the Empire, and the land was ruined, most people weren't interested in mapping out the country any longer. Save actually going to a library in Ruthenia, which we may have to do if we find nothing, there aren't many interested in drafting up a detailed map of a ruined land. Especially one that large."

Seychelles groaned and rose to her feet, her palms slapping down on the table in irritation. "There has to be something! I refuse to believe that of all the books and traveling done through the centuries, not one was done on Ruthenia by someone who didn't live there. If we have to go to a city in Ruthenia, like Moskva* or something, there goes our element of surprise! I'm sure word of a group of westerners will travel through his spies and the next thing we know, he'll either attack us or relocate. Not really sure which of those would be preferable."

An attack, Arthur thought moodily. At least that way they would know where he was—that would be a small comfort while he kicked their asses. Arthur rubbed at his temples in an attempt to ward off the beginnings of a headache he felt forming there.

"I should have made Gilbert stay and help research." Arthur shot Seychelles a dirty look before he scribbled on his tablet.

**If you had, I would've killed him. And then you'd be down a crew member.**

Seychelles chuckled and shook her head, running fingers through the ends of her braids. "I suppose you're right. He would've probably set the library on fire by now and then I'd be forced to sell him as a servant to Roderich to help pay off the cost. And no one would want that menace as a servant."

Vash gave a grunt of agreement but still didn't look up from his books. Arthur shoved his own away and leaned back on his chair, blinking his eyes up at the domed ceiling, stretching his arms up and behind his head to loosen his muscles. Seychelles pushed herself away from her seat and walked around the room, her eyes scanning the shelves intermittently but without interest. "I thought that Roderich had older books than this."

"He does, but the older they are, the more valuable they are. He keeps them in his vault within the city's bank. If you think those would be any less useless than these, you can ask him to withdraw them for us. If you convince Elizaveta it would help, she'll convince him."

"Mm, Arthur? What do you think?"

Arthur shrugged and wrote out his answer in carefully measured sentences. He hated how it took him so long to get a single thought across, much less a few. **Old books would only help if they had information these don't. They are harder to read and have to be handled delicately. You can ask though, see what selections he has. I'll let you know if they're any use to us.**

She nodded and placed her hands on her hips, still surveying Arthur; he tried to ignore her as he sat back up and pulled the book in front of him again. She never did well with being ignored though, and a few moments later, she was sitting on the edge of his table and had a hand against his forehead. He swatted it away and glared up at her, the silent question of 'what the hell do you want' clear across his expression. "You look tired, Arthur. Are you getting much sleep? I know you and Alfred are excited to have some time alone but there is more to life than sex."

Arthur huffed silently and looked back at his book. He wasn't deigning anything regarding his sex life, or lack of one (it was more of a cuddle-life to be honest but Arthur had deemed it best to go slower and he stood by that conviction, no matter how frustrating, because that was the right thing to do, damn it), with a response. Besides, it wasn't like he and Alfred really spent much time together as it was. They'd been apart since their first day in Vindobona; Alfred was busy out buying supplies and Arthur was busy researching all day. Arthur was generally out of bed before Alfred was up and by the time he returned, Alfred was asleep again. The only time they really saw each other the past few days was at dinner—Arthur suspected it was because of this that he had the irrational need to hold Alfred close at night, or desired to have him sitting in the library with him just to _be _there. That, or sleep deprivation was making him more of a sop than usual.

"Seriously, Arthur, are you getting enough sleep? You're always in here long before either of us and I know you stay later—exhausting yourself isn't going to do anyone any good."

Arthur shrugged and ignored her. Or, he tried to ignore her, and was doing a good job until she all but slid into his lap, one arm wrapping companionably around his shoulders (Arthur cursed her feminine wiles—she had a habit of using them whenever she felt she was being ignored, and they were effective, no matter his gender inclinations). He sighed and looked back up at her smirking face with an annoyed twitch to his eyebrows. _What? _She was getting better at reading lips and was usually fine if he kept his responses to three words or less.

"You look too pale, Arthur. I think you've had enough of the books for today."

He shook his head and shoved her off him; Seychelles was not deterred and retaliated by grabbing his arm and yanking him out of his seat. "Nope, none of that. I'm the captain, even if we're off the ship at the moment, so my orders are law, Kirkland. And I order you to get out and try to do something about those unattractive bags under your eyes. Two people looking through books and finding absolutely nothing is more than enough. We can spare you for a few hours."

"I can help!" Lily raised her hand and smiled softly in a way that made her aged face look younger. She looked better, healthier than she had on the ship—Arthur suspected that Roderich had his own physician come and visit her and check on her progress. Kiku was an exceptional healer, but there was only so much he could with a little girl trapped in an old woman's body on a germ-infested ship. Vash looked over at her and spared his sister a small, rare smile.

"See? We even have a volunteer to replace you! No need for you here at all!"

Arthur glared at Seychelles. **I'm the one who saw the mountain range. You need me to identify it.**

"And if we find anything even remotely more detailed than 'mountains' or 'peaks' in these books, we'll scamper off to find you. See? Everyone's happy."

"Just go, Kirkland. You know how she gets when she's like this. She'll be putting tacks on your chair next." Vash's voice had a trace more humor in it than usual. Arthur felt a little betrayed by the other man but he had to acknowledge his point. Seychelles got more and more inventive and obnoxious the longer you tried to ignore her (that was not a flattering trait, no matter what she thought).

He made a show of shoving his chair in roughly and glaring a lot so she could know just how pissed off he was, but she just smiled at him until he was out of the library; the door slammed shut behind him. He huffed at the door, his tablet and quill shoved under his arm, and rolled his eyes before heading down the hallway. It was the middle of the day, was she really expecting him to sleep? He wasn't a child (or Gilbert) who could just nap at any old time during the day; his internal clock wouldn't allow it. Still, he supposed he had been going about his researching with more intensity than his body could really handle—maybe a walk would help ease the tension headache still looming behind his temples.

He took off towards the main foyer of the manor; Roderich had mentioned before that there were gardens they could visit on the grounds and it had been a long time since Arthur had seen a garden. He'd tended a small one back in Britannia, a hobby that was relaxing even if it gave his brothers fuel for insults against his manhood, but it wasn't a pastime that was practical aboard a ship. Kiku kept a small herb garden in his quarters, but that wasn't the same, not to Arthur. He rounded down the staircase and headed through the back parlors, following a maid's directions after he paused to check if he was heading he right way. He was, and he continued down the hallway past the kitchens and into a large sitting room that was framed by large, open windows. Arthur crossed the room to the pair of French doors near the back; they were already open and led straight into a sprawling garden outside.

Arthur blinked and adjusted to the natural sunlight outside as he took in the trees and shrubs that lined a stone-tile patio that had a few chairs and tables along it. He felt lighter already and walked down the length of the patio until he reached a smaller pathway that led into the garden proper. There were the standard flowers for Vindobona—edelweiss and roses and carnations—but as he walked through the winding pathway, he noticed sunflowers, orchids, and blue bells as well. There were all manner of fruit trees, most in bloom, and he could see smatterings of vegetable patches between the trees. He even passed by a small moon garden, all the white blossoms and plants delicate looking against the sheer amount of greenery, and he wondered how much Roderich spent each month up-keeping a garden of this intricacy and size. It must have required regular florist visits to keep all the foreign plants healthy in Vindobona's climate and to keep the fruit trees still in bloom even though most shouldn't have even been in season.

He turned another corner, passing by a particular fragrant rose bush and spotted a woman ahead, a little off the pathway, covered in dirt and wearing a hat that covered most of her hair. He wondered for a brief moment if she was a gardener but when she tilted up her head to wipe sweat off with her forearm, he was met with Elizaveta's face. She was studying a small bunch of marigolds with a thoughtful expression before she turned her head and saw him, her smile going wide as she waved at him in greeting.

"Arthur! Finally decided to venture out of that moldy old library, huh? Oh, wait, you like libraries—well, still! It's always good to get out in the fresh air! Especially when you've been as cooped up inside as you've been the last few days. I feel like I've barely even seen you without your nose buried in a book!"

Arthur shrugged and made his way over to Elizaveta at her invitation, taking a seat on a small bench across from her crouched position. He liked 'talking' with her, Arthur found; mainly because she talked enough for the pair of them and never seemed to ask him questions that required more than one syllable answers. Not to mention she had the inexplicable side-effect of cheering up any gloomy moods—she was like a ray of sunshine injected straight into the veins. He could see why the crew, sans Gilbert if he had any say in it, missed her so much.

"So, is your break voluntary or forced?"

**Forced.**

"Thought so, not that I don't agree with it! If they didn't kick you out I was going to do it myself! I feel like I've hardly gotten to know you since you've been here and if you're going to be my little Al's boyfriend, I really do need to get inside that head of yours!" Arthur felt himself blush a furious red and he sputtered silently, frustrated that he really couldn't defend himself against those sort of comments properly without being able to speak. Elizaveta laughed and brushed back another loose piece of hair, smearing a bit of dirt on her forehead. "Oh, no need to get so embarrassed, I think it's incredibly romantic that you two are together, that you were brought together on a thrilling journey with lots of danger and adventure! It's like something out of a book. You know, I've tried for years to match make him before I left , and he never was interested! I was starting to worry he was asexual…"

Arthur felt his blush deepen and he frowned embarrassedly down at his tablet, but his silence, so to speak, answer Elizaveta's unspoken question and leering look. She squealed and clapped her hands together, turning so she sat facing Arthur on the ground, getting dirt all over her dress. Arthur rolled his eyes and scribbled down on his tablet. **Can we please act like adults and not bloody teenagers?**

She laughed again and reached across to swat his knee playfully. "Oh hush up you big grump, I'm allowed to be happy for my adopted little brother at finally getting deflowered!"

Deflowered…Arthur could honestly say he had never heard anyone using that word outside of trite romance novels. **Please don't use that word again.**

Elizaveta giggled in response and looked at him fondly. It was odd; she barely knew him and yet she was treating him as if they had been friends for years. It wasn't unpleasant exactly, but it was hard to get used to—he wasn't the most open of people and he felt like an ass for being that way in the wake of Elizaveta's warm nature. He often found himself feeling torn between fond, annoyed, and guilty all at once when she extended her friendship so easily to him and that never failed to knot his stomach. With Roderich, it was easier to interact with—he treated everyone, even those he knew apart from Vash and Lily, with polite but distant regard. Elizaveta wasn't like that at all; he was finding it odder and odder each day to think that they were married.

"Oh, don't be such a fuddy-duddy, it's just a word. And I'm just teasing you; I would never make you talk about your private life if you didn't want to. But I hope you know what I'm sacrificing for being so noble!" She grinned at him again and he returned it, a little reluctantly but still given. She tilted her head towards the upturned marigolds and waved a hand down to a spot beside her. "Well, since you've been forced to have a break from all that reading, did you want to help me at all in the garden? I'm trying to decide if these marigolds really fit in around here or if I should find a new home for them—they're awfully beautiful here, but they're at their best when helping out the vegetables. I think they'd feel like they wouldn't be fulfilling their life purpose if they stayed here."

It was a little strange hearing her talk about plants as if they were sentient beings, but he remembered what Alfred had said about her own Talent that Ivan had stolen. He had likened it to having a magically green thumb, but maybe she had been able to communicate with plants in a way, like Tino had implied he and the other Nordic Brothers would 'speak' with their element. He felt a pang of pity when he thought about how she couldn't do that anymore, just like how he thought about poor Lily or Alfred's brother, and how that must have affected them. Arthur had never really used his gift, but Elizaveta obviously had—he could only imagine how terrible adjusting must have been for all of them.

He nodded and rose from the bench, leaving the tablet behind; he crouched beside her, motioned wordlessly at the flowers, and pointing over to the vegetable patch down the path. She followed his silent suggestion and grinned brightly at him with a firm nod; Arthur expected her to pull on a pair of gloves, but she didn't. She drove her hands deep into the soil and scooped up one of the marigolds, roots and all, with confident hands that obviously knew what they were doing. She got up and walked the marigolds down the path to the vegetable patch, plopping back down to her knees and digging aside more dirt in an empty patch to place the flowers in. Arthur stared at her, wondering again how on earth a woman like her fit into the stifling role as a lord's wife. He blinked as she made her way back but followed her lead, digging his hands deep into the dirt and uprooting the marigolds gently, making sure to keep the roots intact.

"You do much gardening back home, Arthur?" Arthur nodded before he continued down the path to replant the flowers. "Thought so, you've got hands that know what they're doing—you should see Rod try to help. I had to put him on weed duty after he had ripped out one too many flower beds!"

Arthur gave an understanding nod as she brought over the last of the marigolds. They worked in silence for a time as they replanted the flowers, packing in the dirt tightly around the roots so the flowers stood upright and strong. The silence between them was comfortable, despite the many questions Arthur felt tickling his brain about Elizaveta and the conundrum she presented. When they were finished, Elizaveta let out a satisfied sigh and wiped her hands on her dress, not caring about the horrible dirt stains they left in their wake; Arthur felt a small smile tug at his lips as he observed her and then the flattering way the marigolds complemented the stalks of tomatoes and peppers. She patted his arm and looped her own through his, tugging him close and walking him down the garden pathways.

"Walk with me a bit, would you? Rod's busy helping the crew with some of the more expensive transactions a long, deep sea trip entails and you are definitely not allowed to go back to the library after 'Chelles finally got you out!" Arthur nodded at her; she hadn't really been _asking_ him to walk, he knew a demand when he heard one. "I love it out here. Rod's really done his very best in making this garden as diverse and beautiful as the one I used to have when I was younger. You know, I didn't live all that far away from Vindobona growing up! I lived in Upper Pannonia, just a little town that nearly all my family had grown up in—it's nice that they're close enough to visit! I can't imagine not being able to see them for such long stretches of time, like when I was at sea with all the rest. Oh, I hated that part about the constant traveling; don't know how Al stands it, as close as he and Mattie are. Have you met Mattie? He's such a sweet boy! Shy though until he warms up to you and then he's got the most wicked sense of humor—you wouldn't know he and Al were related if they didn't look so damn similar. Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just nattering away, aren't I? Let me back up—have you met Mattie yet?"

Arthur shook his head no. She hummed and they turned down a row of rose bushes, all different shades of pink, red and yellow surrounding them and filling the air with a soft scent. "I suppose you've been rather busy—and with Merica so inland, it makes it difficult to visit. I think he'd like you. You manage to shut Al up for a few minutes!"

She laughed and Arthur felt another smile tug at his lips, air escaping through his mouth silently. If he had been able to make sound, he knew it would have been a laugh. "Do you miss your home, Arthur? I'm afraid I'm not terribly familiar with Britannia but I've heard it's lovely, if you can look past the attitude towards magic and Talent."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders in response. It wasn't as if he would be able to fully articulate the complexities of the answer to that question, even if he did have his tablet. He had liked living in Britannia (mainly because he had known nothing else), and it had been his home up until he'd been driven out of it by pitchfork-wielding townspeople, but he honestly missed the certainty and familiarity of it more than anything else. He had never been close with his brothers, and the distance between them had only grown after their parents had died—he was closer with the crew members now then he could ever remember being with them. Elizaveta squeezed his arm and he looked over at her slightly abashed expression.

"You went off somewhere without me—I shouldn't have said anything, right? Sometimes I don't think before I speak, and by sometimes, I mean most times." Arthur's smile tugged a little wider and he shook his head to let her know she wasn't at fault. She understood, but didn't bring up the topic again. He hesitated for a moment, but tapped her hand and motioned to his lips with the other. "I'm sorry, what about your lips? Oh! Are you asking if I can lip-read?"

Arthur nodded. "A little—Gil—I learned a bit on board the _Evangeline_. Talk slow though, I'm sure I'm rusty."

_Why—_he began then shook his head and started again—_What made you stop sailing with them? You miss them._

"Oh, you go straight for the kill, don't you?" Arthur felt an uncomfortable flush start across his face and he shook his head in apology before she tut-ted and patted his shoulder. "No, it's only fair, I'm sure you've gotten a bunch of half-truths and stories out of the crew. And you're right, I do really miss them, even Gilbert when he's not being such a conceited jerk, but I—it just got to be too much, you know? Or, maybe you don't but—I sailed with them for almost two years and they were the most heart-breaking two years of my life. You get consumed, caught up in the fervor of finding Ivan and bringing him to justice but—you can only take so much failure before it starts to tear you down, especially after Toris was taken. I had to see hundreds of children like Lily and—not all of them make it. Lily is truly one of the lucky ones and I just got so tired of nothing but death and disappointment and it didn't matter how much I loved everyone, or how much I loved Gilbert because I did really love him, because in the end, finding Ivan always came first and I just—it wasn't worth it to me anymore."

She shrugged her shoulders and looked up at him from beneath long lashes, eyes sad but not weepy. "I know how odd it looks to you, Roderich and me. It looks odd to everyone—hell, it was odd to me at first but—I can't really describe it. Meeting him was just, it was like opening my eyes and finding out there wasn't just one path to take after looking down at the ground for so long. He cared about finding and stopping Ivan, but it wasn't an obsession—and Vash wanted to join so it just seemed like a good time to try and find something new."

Arthur wouldn't have known what to say even if he could speak, so he was thankful for the silence in that moment. He honestly hadn't expected such an involved answer from Elizaveta; he hadn't really known what he had been expecting, but that wasn't it. After a few moments of quiet though, he tapped her shoulder and asked the question that had been bugging him the most since he first arrived in Vindobona and met Elizaveta after hearing a bunch of stories about her. _But what about your gift? Don't you want it back?_

She had to have him repeat his question a few times before she understood what he was asking. "Of course I want it back! It almost painful being surrounded by so much _life_ here and not hearing their quiet whispers and murmurs, unable to help them when rot sets in or watching plants die because, unfortunately, it's not their season and I don't have the ability to keep them strong anymore. Roderich tries his best; he hires the best of gardeners and always tries to bring in new plants and flowers when others die but—of course I want it back. But I realized something in those years chasing after Ivan, and that was I was a lot more than just my gift, and that while it was hard to adjust to its loss, my life didn't stop or end with the loss. I adapted and—I still have my flowers and I can remember what they would whisper to me, and even though I can't help them as much as I used to, I know I do my best and they are still appreciative of all I do.

"So yes, I want it back…but I also want a dozen ponies and a breed of lily that will never die and lots of other things I may never get and are slightly ridiculous, and I'm alright with that. What I want and what I need are two different things and even though I may want my gift back, I don't think it's so important to put the rest of my life on hold." She paused and looked back up at him with a worried look, her hand gripping his arm again, halting them on the pathway. "But, that was just my own decision, don't think I don't respect all the others for what they're doing because I do, I really do! I mean, yes having my gift taken was hard, but luckily that was the only thing I lost, I can't imagine what I'd do if I lost my voice, or sight, or anything else like that. Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to sound so condescending or judgmental! You're not mad, are you?"

Arthur shook his head and looked back at the ground. He wasn't mad, not really—because she had a point. Arthur had only been with the _Evangeline_ for close to six months now and he could see what she meant about how obsessed they all were, how consumed with finding Ivan everyone was, and while he felt that same fervor whenever his silence slapped him in the face, he knew _exactly_ what she was talking about. He saw it in Alfred every time someone so much as mentioned Ivan or Matthew. Sure, Arthur wanted his voice back and he wanted to stop Ivan but—Alfred's fervor was different and that worried him. He believed Elizaveta when she said that she had loved Gilbert; he heard it in her voice, that wistful, soft remembrance that was tinged with regret; and he believed that love hadn't been enough to keep her with him, not in the face of everything else. Love only took you so far, especially when it took a back seat to revenge.

Lady above, he didn't want to think about all of this. He had just gotten used to the idea of letting what was happening between himself and Alfred develop and not worry too much about what-ifs and a future that they may not even have. To think less and just let it happen. But Arthur couldn't imagine himself chasing down Ivan in some endless chase for years on end—he could imagine Alfred doing that. If it came down to a choice, Arthur wasn't confident that whatever Alfred felt for him, no matter how strong or loud he touted it to be, would win out against the anger and rage he felt for Ivan. What happened when he came to the same crossroads Elizaveta had come to? It would be hard to live without his voice, it would be, but not impossible—Alfred would never be able to live without making Ivan pay somehow for hurting his brother. He blinked and shook himself out of Elizaveta's hold, flashing an apologetic smile that felt more like a grimace on his face.

"Bother—don't know when to keep my big mouth shut, do I? I really am sorry, Arthur. You came out here to get some peace of mind and I've just gone and upset you—oh don't try denying it, I know you're drawing comparisons to what happened between me and Gil to you and Alfred." He arched an eyebrow at her in silent question. "It's only natural—Gilbert's just as intense as Alfred is about finding Ivan, just not as angry. I don't think it's really as similar as you think though; I mean, Gil and I had problems with a capital P! It's not really the same."

Arthur shrugged and kept his gaze on the rose bushes; he heard Elizaveta sigh from beside him but she didn't say anything further. Arthur thought that was best—he had plenty to stew over as it was. "Are you any closer to identifying the mountain range you saw? I talked to 'Chelles this morning but you've been in there most of the day…"

Arthur shook his head as she trailed off. "Oh—well maybe you're looking in the wrong place! I mean, travel narratives and geography books are the most logical, but maybe you should try literature from Ruthenia. Roderich has a pretty decent selection of books from Ruthenian writers and I bet they'd reference their own geography much more than those snobby tomes you're trying to dig through. Maybe you could look at some of those tomorrow, I'm sure the reading would be more enjoyable at any rate!"

Arthur nodded and allowed a small, fleeting grin in response before they continued walking. The silence that bloomed between them was comfortable as they walked past the roses and into a section of flowers that all appeared to be yellow or orange; it looked like sunshine had literally exploded all over. Arthur blinked, off put for a moment and glanced at Elizaveta when she chuckled at his expression. "Overwhelming, isn't it? Oh, I love touring snooty old women through this section! Their faces alone are priceless!"

His humored scoff wasn't heard, but she smiled brighter at him as if she did. She started telling him some story about the last gala her husband had thrown and how much fun she'd had guiding a group of women allergic to pollen through the garden and Arthur let himself get lost in her chatter. It was oddly relaxing. Certainly beat thinking about unpleasant truths that he'd been naïve to before today or his constant failures in finding what they needed. So he focused on Elizaveta's babble and tried his best to push all the doubts and vicious whispers working through his head to the back of his mind. That seemed the best course of action, ignorance and avoidance. He doubted that Elizaveta would agree though, so he kept the thought to himself—it was easy enough to do, being silent and all.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Seychelles was brushing her hair in the small vanity to the side of her closet when she heard the knock. She smiled to herself in the mirror, adjusted her eye-patch a little so it rested balanced over her ruined eye socket, and gave her hair a little flounce before she got up and headed towards the door. It seemed a little silly, dolling herself up for a man who couldn't see her, but sometimes a woman just needed to remind herself that she was plenty attractive; especially when she spent most of her days on board a ship, surrounded mostly by men and aggressive women. She felt a smile flutter across her mouth as she opened the wide doors and met Francis' milky blue gaze; her head tilted to the side and she cocked her hip out in a playful stance. It may have been lost on Francis but it still made her feel more daring, alluring. She gave a mental thank you to Kiku, who had told her he would be busy all night and likely not to return to their shared room any time soon.

She suspected he really was just trying to give her some privacy but was too polite to say so. Lady bless that man.

"You're late, you know. It's hardly proper to keep a woman waiting."

"Ah, but _mon amour_, it is anticipation that builds the passion between lovers." Seychelles couldn't help but crack a grin at that—Francis always said the cheesiest of lines, but managed to say them in a way that seemed entirely genuine. She suspected it was the Gaul accent; it made women do and think funny things.

"Well, are you going to stand out there all night and anticipate or are you going to come in?"

"A gentleman always waits for his lady's approval, _mon cher_." Seychelles rolled her eyes and looped her arm through Francis' guiding him into the room and shutting the door behind them softly. Francis made his way through the room with more confidence than a blind man normally would, but Seychelles knew that the stunted, shaded vision he had outside in the sun was all but gone inside. Even then, he never saw details, just clouded, vague shapes—Francis never complained though, not when he knew he was lucky to still have something of his sight left (even though he'd grown to ignoring the small Visions he got entirely after the Nords fiasco). Not when he was faced with a completely deaf Gilbert or a silenced Arthur (though that wasn't really the same since he could still use his scarily powerful gift when pushed to it). Not when Seychelles had had her navigation eye nearly ripped out of her skull by a spell and she was left with a mass of scar tissue and a marred face under the patch. Francis may have been an ass, but he was a compassionate ass; most of the time, anyway.

"I hope your day was more productive than mine," she said. She guided him to a small table she had set up and poured him a glass of wine from a vintage bottle Elizaveta had so kindly provided. Seychelles grinned as she remembered how happy her friend had been when she'd told her how she and Francis were finally moving forward. Between her and Alfred, she imagined her friend was positively having kittens with all the 'blossoming love' under her roof.

Francis smiled in his lopsided, charming way and took a sip of his wine before answering. "If by productive you mean we managed to complete our dull and tedious work of securing supplies and rope for the rigging, all under the tyrannical thumb of Taskmaster Esther, then yes, we were. And you? How did you, young Vash and our dear mute progress?"

Seychelles groaned and took a deep gulp of wine. "Terribly. I'll be happy never reading another book again after this—I had to send Arthur out for some air, he looked about ready to either collapse or set the library on fire. Neither would have been conducive to our search."

"Mm, he did look less haggard than usual at dinner. Perhaps our dear Alfred will have a more pleasant night due to your actions." Seychelles felt a slight blush travel up her cheeks with the way Francis looked at her as he said that. It was an unsung talent of his, the ability to talk about something completely unrelated to what he was thinking and still manage to get both across. "Will you continue your search for the elusive mountain range tomorrow then?"

"What other choice do we have? It's not like we've got another clue on where to head stashed away in a book somewhere." She set down her glass and leaned a little across the table. "You believe Arthur saw what he saw, don't you?"

"_Oui_, I do—however, I fear I am falling into the minority rapidly with that viewpoint. Esther is quite vocal about her doubts. If Sadiq had not been there to witness what Arthur had done I fear none but ourselves, Vash, Kiku, perhaps Gilbert, and Alfred of course, would believe him."

"Do they fear it's a trap, like what happened with your visions in the Nords?"

"Perhaps—who is to know what they think, _mon cher_? I suggest if you are concerned, you speak to them yourself. As their captain, your word would go farther in assuring them than Alfred's does at the moment—I fear they are too distracted with the fact that Alfred is so enamored with our mute grump to hold his assurances with any value." He reached across the table and found her hand after a few failed attempts, lacing their fingers together and bringing the back of her hand up to his lips. She smiled as he pressed a kiss to her hand, giving it a little tug after, a silent plea for her to come closer. She got out of her chair carefully and walked over to him, taking a prim seat on the edge of his knee. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder, her unoccupied hand playing with the soft ends of his hair.

"Well, that certainly sounds more appealing than another day of combing through boring reference books."

"Doesn't it? Now that is sorted, I can think of more worthwhile activities we could be doing at the moment, _amour_. Would you like to hear them?"

She hummed her agreement before she leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. He tasted like wine and whatever that fruit dish had been for dessert; his hands ran up her back and combed through her unbound hair, his fingertips working into her skull in gentle, circling motions. She would take his advice tomorrow, she thought absently as he rose to his feet and swept her into his arms, holding her so close to him she could feel his heartbeat. Tomorrow she would go around to her crew and assure them that Arthur had her every confidence and to trust that what they were doing was going towards finally finding Ivan Braginski. Something they had never been close to before. Something they would do well to remember had been nothing but an empty dream for so long because of failure after failure.

Tomorrow she would. Tonight though, tonight she would simply enjoy the one thing she had been waiting to happen for nearly a year. She was the captain, it was a perk of the job to decide when to act and what to act on. She smiled and tumbled down with Francis and turned down the lights.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

*Bruma = Latin for Winter or Winter Solstice.

*Moskva= The name for the river that runs through Moscow, which the city is named after.

Review, da?


	18. Chapter 18

Title : Of Silence and Thievery  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: I think I deserved the lackluster response for the last chapter XD. I believe you will all be suitably more pleased with this one; there's plot movement and that R-rating comes into play again for something other than language. I hope you enjoy!

_******USUKUSUKUSUK**_

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter __Eighteen:__Where__ the__ Crew,__aka__ Lily,__Finally __Figures__ Out__ Where __to__ Go_

Matthew awoke to a low, annoyed voice and the clang of an iron door. He blinked a few times and tried to adjust his eyes to the sudden onslaught of light that was streaming into his cell, framing a slim, feminine figure in the doorway. It took him a few moments to remember where he was; he had been dreaming he was back home and playing piano (which he was horrible at) with a polar bear in his hometown, but Natalia's hard, unmoving face moved close to his and everything snapped back into place. He leaned back and felt a little ashamed at how his breath quickened with Natalia so close—only a little though because while she was small, the girl was a complete nut job and had a very powerful ability. Not the best combination, power and crazy. She glared at him and stepped back as he got to his feet, her long hair tied back into an efficient bun this morning instead of loose down her back like it usually was.

"Get up. Brother Ivan has much to do today and I won't have him kept waiting on you." The way she said 'you' made him feel like he was little more than grime on the wall—it shouldn't have made him feel that way but it did, a little. He pushed back his matted hair and straightened out his clothing from where it had gotten wrapped around him during sleep. She allowed him that before grabbing his arm, in a grip that made him wince, and dragging him out of his cell, down the carved out hallway. He was pretty sure she was holding him too tight on purpose; she hated him with the same passion she hated Toris, which was a lot. He had his suspicions why she hated him when she barely knew him, but he kept those thoughts locked away. He didn't want to be angry at his brother; he shouldn't be angry at him but when he focused on those suspicions, he couldn't help but get angry and curse him for his current predicament.

Because, no matter what way you spun it, it was because of Alfred he was here, and every time Natalia looked at him, she was reminded of it and of Ivan's terrifying obsession with his brother and raged that it wasn't directed towards _her_. And who better to take out that rage on but Matthew? It wasn't Al's fault, not in the slightest and he knew that, but it was still because of him that Matthew was here and he'd been stuck with that thought for the past few days, ever since Toris had let slip why Ivan had gone after him after ignoring him for so long. Repeating over and over again in his head in the dark of his cell. He hated feeling so angry and upset with Al, he really did but—well, he was stuck in hell while Al was off canoodling with some guy. It was hard to be rational and get over his anger when that kept slapping him in the face every morning he woke up in a cage. Natalia took a turn and nearly yanked his arm out of its socket; Matthew bit his lip and glared at the back of her head.

They walked through the smooth, rock hallways in silence, only the patter of their feet echoing off the stone, until they were outside and in the middle of what looked like a rock yard. Matthew blinked at the light and shivered a little as a gust of cold wind blew down from the sky; he'd been brought here over the past week now and it was still hard to get used to just how high up they were. He could look out and see the tops of other mountains from the yard and the air was thinner, harder to breathe in; he felt sick to his stomach at just how trapped Ivan kept them. Natalia all but tossed him into the yard before she turned sharply on her heel and stormed off, sparing a terse nod for the tall, curvy blonde, Oksana, who served as their overseer. Of all the people who were there of their own free will, Oksana was the sanest (you know, apart from the fact that she followed a fanatic and was part of his cult). She spared Matthew a compassionate look and handed him a thick, wool coat for him to wear while he was outside in the yard; he gave her a wan smile in thanks.

"Brother Ivan needs more of the precious stones to continue his Vision; I know it is cold, but please do your best to find them, I promise I will make sure anyone who needs it will get extra helpings of dinner tonight!" Matthew couldn't help but stare at her ample breasts as she spoke to them; she had a habit of bouncing a little when she talked and they…jiggled. It was distracting. He shuffled over to where a rack of shovels and picks awaited him and grabbed one of each before heading over to a carved out rock face where Toris was shivering and already picking at the wall. Eduard was there too, which was new, but Matthew suspected deliberate. There were many different jobs to do in the compound, but digging for the precious stones outside (where it was cold as fuck) was generally one for the bottom of the hierarchy. Or if someone was being punished—Matthew suspected Eduard purposely did something to anger Ivan when Toris had told him this was where he'd been assigned to.

Eduard, Matthew had discovered, already knew all about him due to his Talent; he had wanted to meet him ever since he'd been brought to the compound, but Ivan had been strict with who actually saw him those first few weeks. Eduard had never been able to sneak away—Toris certainly hadn't been able to, not successfully at any rate, and he had that dark ring around his eye to prove it. Eduard seemed a bit more self-preserving than Toris. Matthew hadn't been sure how to feel about Eduard at first; Toris had told him that he had initially joined Ivan of his own choice, but was now kept here against it. That still meant that he had guided Ivan to people like him and his brother before, and he was still doing it now. He seemed to want to escape Ivan though and if Toris vouched for him, Matthew was in no position to question it. Matthew glanced back at Oksana and breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed she was helping a young girl, who had been caught trying to steal a second helping of breakfast, and not paying attention to them.

"Why are we digging for stones again?" Matthew could understand it they were trying to find jewels or something, but Ivan had them looking for quartz mostly, varying shades of quartz and limestone. Sometimes copper, but that was rare and Toris said they usually dug inside the mountain for that. "Can't he just find them with someone's stolen stone-finding ability?"

"Hasn't found anyone with that Talent yet, but even if he could, why would he when he can just force us to do it?" Eduard commented. "And we're digging for them because natural stones help channel large amounts of magic or power better than jewels or man-made tools."

"And why does he need to channel magic? He keeps the Talents he takes."

"Not all of them, only the ones he finds useful to him," Toris chimed in. He looked around and bent his head close to Matthew's and kept his voice low, almost a whisper. "He's channeling everything else he takes somewhere else and it takes a lot of focus to do it—even with his training he needs help, and that's why he needs the stones. Quartz crystal channels most everything, which is why he wants them the most, but for specific types of power, like energy or electricity, he uses copper. The limestone is better at transferring more natural or element-bound gifts."

"Why is he sending it somewhere else? And where?" Matthew hadn't really had a chance to ask all the whys and hows of Ivan Braginski until now, and he found himself intensely interested in all he could learn. Even if he couldn't help anyone with the information, trapped as he was, he still hungered for it.

Toris smiled tightly and Eduard grimaced. "We don't know. It has to do with Ruthenia, we think, but—he's only told a few of his followers and even they probably only have an abbreviated version. All we're told is that it's for his 'vision' for a better world and utopia he's supposed to lead us to. That's enough for most people, and for those it isn't, well, we're encouraged to keep as quiet about our doubts."

Matthew's eyes went to Toris' bruised face and turned back towards the wall. He chipped away and found some rosy colored quartz underneath the rock and began the painstaking process of working it out from the rock face without causing a rock slide. So, Ivan wasn't keeping most of what he stole—that was interesting. It created a black pit in his stomach because if he wasn't keeping it for himself, what the nine hells was he doing with everything? And why did he keep everything under wraps, even from those like Natalia who followed him against all logic? He bit his lip and chipped away a large piece of shale from the quartz, large enough that he was able to use the shovel to wriggle the rosy crystal out from the rock face entirely. "Not knowing what he's doing doesn't make me feel very good. At least when I thought he was just a power-hungry megalomaniac, I felt secure knowing what he was after."

Toris made a noise of agreement and Eduard nodded silently, both continuing to work away at the mountain. Matthew brought the quartz, unthinkingly, over to Oksana; she beamed at him supportively when she took it.

"Brother Ivan will be very pleased with this, Matthew! Rose quartz allows for more power transfer than clear does; I'll be sure to let him know it was you who found this for him!"

Matthew felt another swoop of nausea settle in his stomach at her naively kind words. She thought, truly and whole-heartedly thought, that telling him how well he was helping Ivan, the man who had stolen his gift, driven his brother away and kidnapped him, was going to make him feel better. He couldn't even give her a smile; he nodded his head woodenly and trudged back over to his spot beside Toris, teeth clenched behind his lips and frustration tinged with anger coursing through him. He was helping the man responsible for killing hundreds of children and ruining the lives of countless others—he should've just chucked the damn quartz over the edge of the mountain. Next time he would, he didn't care what Ivan did in retaliation (because Matthew had no doubt he'd know somehow)—he couldn't do much, but he could do that.

"Tell me about the new crew member with Al. Why does Ivan want him and why is he pissed that he and my brother are 'together' or whatever?"

Toris and Eduard glanced at each other before Eduard cleared his throat. "His name is Arthur Kirkland and he's from Britannia. He can—it's rather remarkable actually. His voice can essentially do anything, _create_ anything, just be saying something a certain way. From making an inanimate object move or carry out a command on its own, to halting an entire mob of people in their tracks. He created a beam of light in the Nords when Ivan attacked him there, to signal the Nordic Brothers where he and Alfred were, after Ivan had attempted to steal his power. He only stole his voice—which is why Ivan wants him here. His Talent is stronger than Ivan's, much stronger actually."

That—that sounded horrifying. Someone had that much power and control, literally, at his beck and call, so much that Ivan hadn't been able to take it—and this person was with Alfred? "So this man can basically do anything he wants just by saying it? He can make someone do something, think anything, just by commanding it?"

Eduard smiled a little, which Matthew thought was entirely inappropriate given the situation. This guy was with his brother, could've been forcing him to be with him just be saying it, especially if he still had all his power! "There's a reason most here refer to him as Siren. And yes, he could do all that, I imagine—but the Lady and Balance must have chosen this man in humor because he hardly ever used it. From what I've witnessed, he treats it as a bother and ignores it for the most part, well until recently he did; Britannia is not exactly kind to individuals who have Talent, you know that."

"And you know that he's just a really upstanding guy how?"

"Ivan made me find him. He uses your empathy and that sea captain's navigational eye to attach himself to my power and see what I see—an unintended side effect is that your empathy rubs off on me and I can sometimes pick up the emotions of those I'm watching. For someone who was born with so much Talent, he's surprisingly uninterested in it and doesn't seem to want more power—maybe that will change as he uses it more outside of a land where he would've faced death for using it, but for now, I wouldn't be concerned for your friends. Or your brother. I've unfortunately had to witness just how mutual his attraction is for Kirkland."

Matthew tried to be reassured by Eduard's words and Toris's soft expression, but he couldn't. It was too much, too much for one person and he did not feel comfortable with someone with _that_ much power stuck with everyone he loved and cared about. Even if he truly was a decent guy, he still was a reason for Ivan to continue to attack his brother and potentially hurt or kill other crew members as long as Ivan wanted to have that power for his own. "And what if he gets brought here, then what? Any free will we have left is basically gone."

Eduard and Toris exchanged another look, this one hurried and maybe just a little bit hopeful on the healer's part. "Not necessarily."

The words were soft and hurried, but held so much damn hope and anticipation that Matthew half expected them to start laughing. They didn't though, and they didn't expand or add anything else to the words, just turned back to the wall and continued to chip away at the mountain. Matthew stared at them for a little while longer before Oksana's gentle voice wafted over, politely directing him to get back to work—he turned back towards the rock and did just that, what felt like a million thoughts buzzing in his head like flies around a carcass.

_******USUKUSUKUSUK**_

"Children's books? You think that reading a bunch of fairytales is going to help us find our mountain?" Arthur couldn't blame the skepticism in Vash's voice—the idea did sound ridiculous. Elizaveta looked undeterred, however, and Roderich gave Vash a patient smile from where he stood beside his wife.

"I think that Elizaveta brought up a valid point to Mr. Kirkland yesterday. You've all but exhausted one resource and were left empty-handed; maybe it's time to look somewhere else to find what you seek. Fiction books and fairytales, as you put it, from Ruthenian writers might reveal more to us than narratives written by men and women who wouldn't find beauty in a destroyed country. I have quite a few contemporary works and some older collections of stories written by Ruthenian writers, and even though some are for children, they have illustrations that could prove useful."

Vash looked over at Arthur and quirked his eyebrow up in question. Arthur shrugged and scribbled his response. **Couldn****'****t**** hurt.**

The short man was quiet before he groaned and motioned Roderich forward with his piles of books. Elizaveta gave a squeak of triumph and wheeled over her own cart of books to where Arthur sat, plopping down in the empty seat beside him. Lily got up slowly from where she had been sitting beside her brother and sat down next to Elizaveta, who beamed down at her brightly before tossing a book at Arthur and cracking one open herself. "Let's show your brother how much smarter us ladies are, shall we, Lils?"

Lily giggled and pulled her own book towards her, her wrinkled and age-spotted hands opening the cover of the fairytale collection slowly before she glanced up at Arthur. "What should I read for?"

He smiled at her and wrote down on his tablet. **A ****big ****mountain ****shaped ****like ****a**** pine ****cone. ****They****'****ll ****be ****lots ****of ****other**** mountains**** surrounding ****it.**

"Ok!" Elizaveta spared a doting look as the little girl began reading the book very seriously. She met Arthur's eyes and looked down at her own reading with an excited grin.

Arthur sighed and looked down at his book, a romance story (if the flowy script of the title was any indication and Arthur had worked long enough around books to know that was always a sign of soppy romance) entitled _The__Mountain__Lord_. He could feel his brain begin to drift from the title alone. It wasn't like he had any other brilliant suggestions though—he knew that a lot of the crew were doubting if he'd even seen anything useful and every day they didn't find anything was a day they thought they'd wasted. Seychelles had even had to go and talk to some of them today; she said she wanted to make sure everything was getting bought that they needed, but Arthur wasn't stupid. She'd worn one of her best outfits and left the library with an expression that could only be described as fierce—he knew damage control when he saw it.

They worked in relative silence for the next hour or so, punctuated only by friendly bickering between Vash and Roderich (the latter acting almost _playful_, if such a thing was possible) as Vash made disparaging commentary to the books he was reading and Roderich's taste for owning them. Roderich's only response seemed to be that he was a collector and he appreciated art in all its forms, even when it was bad. Arthur had scoffed silently in time with Vash's loud snort at that. Arthur set aside _The__Mountain__Lord,_ after discovering 'mountain' had been a very poor euphemism for sex and utterly useless to his search, and he moved on to a different book, skimming for any description of mountains he could find. There actually were quite a few, but none with enough detail to point him in the right direction. He picked up another book at the same time that Elizaveta let out a noisy sigh.

That certainly hadn't taken very long, Arthur thought to himself with a small smirk. She had lasted a whole hour without complaining though—he doubted Alfred or Gilbert would have lasted that long. "Oh Arthur, how did you manage to do this for three whole days? I'm going crazy and I've only looked through two books!"

Arthur shrugged and tried to force down the smirk. He failed though, if Elizaveta's glare was any indication. He shrugged and grabbed for his tablet. **I**** enjoy ****literature, ****even ****if ****it****'****s**** a**** narrative. ****I ****was ****more ****frustrated ****than ****bored.**

She huffed and rubbed at her temples. "Oh, stupid 'Chelles! 'It'll be a lot better than what we read' she says. 'Oh, time will go by fast' she says. She's a big fat liar, this is horrible—I feel bad I didn't try to rescue you and Vash earlier! No wonder that vein in his forehead is more pronounced…have you found anything useful yet?"

Arthur shook his head no and flipped through a few more pages before he set that book aside. He didn't feel as frustrated as he had the day before, prior to when Seychelles had kicked him out, but he was starting to feel a swell of hopelessness in his chest. He felt like he was wasting his, and everyone else's, time with all the pointless searching and that they should've just sailed straight through to Zion and tried their luck with books there. How could an entire continent of educated nations completely ignore and omit another country? Sure, he knew that Ruthenia was kind of considered back country and didn't really hold any influence anymore, but it was still a huge land with thousands, hundreds of thousands, of people who lived there. He rubbed a hand through the back of his hair and shrugged at Elizaveta, who was looking at him in a forlorn manner.

"Nothing? Really? By the Lady tits!"

"Liz!"

"Elizaveta, language around children."

"Oh blast it, sorry! Sorry, Lils, just forget I said anything, all right?"

"It's okay, Liz. They say way worse things on the ship—Arthur, you said the mountain looks like a pine cone, right?" Lily blinked up at him, eyes young and round in the aged face. Arthur nodded and looked back down at his selection of books, trying to decide which one seemed less likely to put him to sleep (he was leaning toward the book of poetry…poets wrote about land and shit, right?). "Oh…I think I found it."

Arthur's head snapped up in time with Elizaveta's, Roderich's and Vash's, and they were all out of their seats and crowding around Lily and her book of fairytales. Arthur leaned in over her tiny shoulder and looked down at the picture she had splayed across the page; it was a group of painted snowcapped mountains and they were surrounding a large, spiral shaped mountain that did indeed look a little like a pine cone. It was an artist's interpretation of course, but it looked just like what he'd seen in the brothel for those few moments after Natalia had fled, the mountains, the shape of the range, everything. Even the curved tip of the large mountain was the same! He smiled and nodded his head excitedly, looking around at the others, who were all intently focused on him, and alternating between pointing at the picture and giving a thumbs up.

"About fucking time."

"You shouldn't swear, big brother."

"Lily, what's the name of this story?"

"It's called 'The Spiral Mountain' and it's about this princess who gets stuck on a big mountain by her father, the king, and makes princes try to ride up it for her hand in marriage. It's really dangerous though because the mountain is covered in snow and has lots of different types of rock that make it hard for horses to ride up and there are monsters and stuff too—I think the clever prince is going to make it though, he seems like a sensible sort. I haven't finished it yet though because I saw the picture and thought it looked like what you told me."*

Arthur was so incredibly relieved he could barely keep himself from leaning down and squeezing the frail girl tight against him. This was it, it had to be. It looked just like what he'd seen and it seemed to have enough detail written on it to suggest the writer must have been inspired by something _real_. Roderich pushed forward a bit and was flipping to the end of the story, noting down an appendix section before flipping through the book until he reached the back. Lily scooted her chair back a little so Roderich could step forward and trail his finger down the page until he found the number he was looking for, a small, triumphant grin (which still looked a bit pompous but Arthur couldn't really give a fuck at the moment) spreading across his face as he read the little blurb.

"Here it is—'The Spiral Mountain was written between the Gildor and Metic ages in Ruthenia by the well renowned bard Vladimir Bekov. It is the common assumption that his inspiration for the Spiral Mountain comes from one of the largest peaks within Ruthenia, Strobilus*, a peak that rests along the western border within the KauKhasis mountain range, which separates the Byzantium from Avrupa.' The rest is just about a supposed prince and princess it was based off of, but there's the mountain you're looking for. Strobilus."

"And it's alongside the western border—that means you wouldn't have to travel across the entire county or too far south to find Ivan!" Elizaveta clapped her hands before she wrapped Roderich into a tight hug, laughing and bouncing a little in her excitement.

"That's a dangerous path though—we'd have to cut through a lot of Byzantium countries and there's a possibility some of them may not be very welcoming towards us, even with Sadiq or Esther. Actually, especially if we have Esther—Zionites aren't well known for getting along with others."

"Vash, I know it's difficult, but can you please not be the wet blanket for once? You just found Ivan's hide-out! It's all right to get excited!" Elizaveta shot the serious blond an annoyed look that didn't quite counteract her excitement and left her with a manic look.

"I am glad we found him, ecstatic in fact, but I do have serious concerns about how safe it is for certain members of our crew to travel through Byzantium." Vash's eyes met hers before he glanced down at Lily, who was beaming up at all of them, proud she had been able to help. Oh who was Arthur kidding, she had found the bloody thing; she deserved all the pride and praise in the world! "It's not an easy path."

Roderich frowned and detached himself from Elizaveta, who hurriedly helped Lily up and started talking about how she could ask for anything in the whole world now and the crew would get it for her because she found Ivan's mountain. "You know she'd be welcome to stay here. I actually think it might be best, especially after the bout with pneumonia on the ship—I know how close you two are but if you're planning to continue after Ivan, I think you should consider it."

Vash nodded tightly and Arthur turned away and busied himself with cleaning up the books in his area, a hot feeling of discomfort and, oddly enough, envy coursing through him. It sometimes hurt to see how much Vash doted on his sister, and how much she respected and looked up to him in return—Arthur had nothing like that with his siblings and likely never would, not if he couldn't go back to Britannia without being lynched. He hadn't realized how much he missed not having that relationship until it stared him in the face every day he saw Vash and Lily, or listened to Alfred talk about Matthew, or remembered Ludwig with Gilbert. He swallowed and finished straightening up his books and grabbed his tablet and quill, following Elizaveta out the door so he could give Vash and Roderich some time to discuss decisions that neither wanted to make.

Maybe it was best he didn't have that close a relationship with his family though—it made the possibility of never seeing them again hurt a bit less.

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Suffice it to say, the rest of crew had been thrilled when they'd returned from loading up the ship and learned that they had discovered where to find Ivan—they had been even more thrilled when Elizaveta told them it had been little Lily who'd been the one to find it. The alcohol had been broken out, drunken songs had been sung, and Francis had promised to go out and buy Lily the most expensive china doll he could find as a thank you present (which then had others chiming in that they'd buy her things like tiaras and villas). Vash had let her stay downstairs and celebrate until she started to nod off, ushering her away from her adoring fans, despite their protests. Arthur hadn't thought it possible to see Alfred grin bigger or brighter than he'd seen previously, but somehow, he'd managed to when he'd picked Arthur up with his come-and-go strength and spun him around in his enthusiasm. Which Arthur had not cared for, because he wasn't a bloody child (any smile he was 'reported' to have had at the time was completely and utterly false), but had tolerated since there was plenty reason to be excited.

Arthur and Alfred had wisely chosen to abstain from the free-flowing bar that Roderich had provided (though not taken part in…which came as surprise to no one), and had been able to sneak out of the dining room without any embarrassing hoots and hollers. Arthur suspected that greatly had to do with Seychelles practically giving Francis a lap dance in the middle of the room to the cheers of some of her more seasoned deckhands, but he wasn't about to knock a gift when handed to him. They weren't drunk, but they stumbled about as if they were, slamming into walls and doors every so often, mouths pinned furiously against each other's as if they'd been separated for weeks, years even. Arthur sucked in a deep breath through his nose and gripped Alfred's hips tighter from where he had him pinned against a door to someone's room—those three fucking days had seemed like years.

Alfred dug his hands through Arthur's hair and angled his head up a little to press his kiss deeper, to swipe at Arthur's lips with his tongue. Arthur's mouth dropped open in silent noise, grateful that sound eluded him because that might have been a bloody whimper, and gripped Alfred's hips harder, pushed himself closer until his knee was pressing against Alfred's cock. They needed a bedroom; Alfred ducked his head down and started pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down Arthur's neck, his hands drifting under Arthur's shirt and his hips bucking up into Arthur's thigh with deep, hard breaths. Fuck that, they needed a flat surface—now. Heat licked up his spine when Alfred sucked, more skillfully than Arthur would have guessed, on a spot under his jaw with more vigor than usual and his vision started to narrow and go fuzzy along the edges.

This was so much better, so much better than the first time and all the tentative touches in between (not that any of that was bad, but holy hells it wasn't _this_) and Arthur was having trouble finding a reason why they needed a flat surface at all. Or finding a reason for them to stop; even though he was faintly sure that he and Alfred had made some asinine agreement to go slow not a month prior. Why had they made that agreement again? They'd gone slow for long enough, hadn't they? It didn't make any sense, especially not now with Alfred so firm and real and grinding, oh fuck _grinding_, against him after three days of frustration and missed touches and finally finding Ivan Braginski which meant things could actually turn out all right for them for once. Bugger going slow.

"Best idea you've had all day." Alfred's voice was low and gravely and Lady, had Arthur actually said that 'out loud'? Arthur tugged himself away a little and nearly pressed back immediately at the low whine Alfred let out at the loss of contact. "Wha—no, no stopping. You just said 'bugger going slow.' I am all for that plan, it's the best plan ever."

Arthur blinked and shook his head. _No __I__—__we __should __find __someplace. __Not __a__ hallway._

Alfred's eyes were glazed and dilated; Arthur had a hard time looking anywhere else. "Yeah? But it's kinda, you know, fun out here."

_I __am __not __fucking __you __in __a __hallway. _Alfred's eyes went wide and Arthur cursed his foot-mouth syndrome because that had been a very inside thought, not one to be shared and now he'd freaked Alfred out. _Not__ that__—__I__ didn__'__t __mean__ it __like __that __I __just__—__I __just __meant __I__ didn__'__t __want __to __have __sex__ in __a __hallway, __that__'__s __all._

"Oh…so you don't want to, you know, uh—you don't want to do that?"

Arthur blinked at the disappointment he heard in Alfred's voice. _I-I-well__ that__'__s __just __a__—__of__ course __I __do__ but __I__ don__'__t __want __to __if __you__—_

"But I do! I mean, it's good right? You liked it and—I really want to. With you."

_Oh._ Well, that was brilliant.

Alfred pulled Arthur back close by the hips and gave him a shy, beautiful smile. "Yeah, oh. I've been thinking about it for a while and, I mean, well it's not like I'm 'wilting' or anything!" Arthur's eyes drifted down to see that Alfred was very much at full attention with pants that looked uncomfortably tight. He looked back up and rested his hands against the younger man's broad shoulders, a true and unhindered smile spreading across his face (and making him look like an idiot, he was sure).

_You're sure?_

"Yeah, yeah I'm like super sure. I'm so sure I couldn't be more sure even if I tried." Gods, he was an idiot, but adorably so. Their breathing had calmed down and their minds had cleared, but arousal was still running hot and thick between them—they both leaned back in at the same time and met in a kiss, all lips and tongue not a bit of finesse, but still so good. They broke apart just as fast and Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand before pushing off the door and dragging him back towards their room. Arthur's knees nearly buckled when he looked down to admire Alfred's ass and a bolt of sheer want shot through him—Lady above, this was actually happening. Alfred wanted this to happen—it wasn't just some perverted sex dream brought on by too many romance books skimmed through that afternoon. He felt, dare he say it, giddy in anticipation, in happiness, at all the triumphant feelings coursing through him from the day.

They darted across the large staircase that separated the different wings of the house, but the sound of heated, familiar voices paused them for a moment; Alfred stopped so abruptly that Arthur ran into his back. He glared up at him and opened his mouth to ask why the he bloody well stopped, but Alfred shook his head and pointed his finger down to the main entryway of the manor. Arthur quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering why the hell whatever Alfred had spotted was more important than getting back to their room and continuing their hallway adventures, but glanced down anyway. His eyes went wide and he met Alfred's shocked and 'what the fuck' expression before looking back down, watching as a completely sober Gilbert kissed and held an equally sober Elizaveta close. He stared for another moment in confusion before he met Alfred's quiet, wild gesturing down at the two while mouthing 'what the hell' over and over again. Arthur shrugged and they both backed away a little so they were folded back against a corner, hidden out of sight. Alfred was pressed in close to Arthur and his breath was ghosting across his ear, but he was so shell-shocked he couldn't quite work himself up to be excited.

He fucking hated Gilbert—Lady-be-damned cock-block.

"What the hell, Arthur? Just-what the hell?"

_You keep repeating that, I don't bloody well know! _

"But, they're kissing, kissing and Liz is married. Married! To Roderich, the guy who owns this house and let us mooch off him all week!"

_I am aware of all of that, thank you!_

"But-but why? Why is there kissing?"

_I don't know, but keep your voice down you twat! They'll hear you!_

Arthur doubted that either of them would really hear Alfred, being so consumed in each other if the wet, kissing noises were any indication, but there was no way he was chancing at making this already awkward situation worse. Arthur stared down as Elizaveta broke away from Gilbert and pushed at his chest when he tried to lean back in, shaking her head quick and hard; Arthur couldn't see from here, but he could guess there were tears in her eyes. He heard her take a shuddering breath and Arthur craned his head a little so he could see over the bannister. Her hair was a mess and he could see the moonlight reflecting the wet tracks on her cheeks—he couldn't see Gilbert, only the back of his head.

"You can't do this, Gil, you can't just waltz in an expect me to give up my life because you want me too! What about what I want, huh?" Her words were tight and controlled, as if they wanted to be yelled and spoken fast but were forced into a slow pace, likely so Gilbert could lip-read.

"You want me, I don't think there's any secret about that."

"Gilbert, that's not the point! Is that what you want to hear, that I still find you attractive, that I still have feelings for you and probably always will despite every logical argument to the contrary? That sometimes I feel like the worst of thieves because I've taken Rod's heart and not fully given mine back in return? Fine, there you go, you've got it, you've heard me say it!"

"I didn't 'hear' anything, Lizzie—"

"Just-just shut up, Gilbert! Gods, why can't you just—nothing's ever serious to you, is it? I just finished confessing all of the worst things about myself and you make some flippant joke, about a turn of phrase?" She was crying in earnest and Arthur could see Gilbert attempting to reach for her, but she slapped his hand away. Alfred made movement against him, like he was going to head down there, but Arthur grabbed his arm and shook his head tightly—he could understand, Elizaveta was like a sister to Alfred, but this wasn't their affair.

_No, Alfred. This is between them. _

"But she's—!"

_I know, but you need to let them sort it out. They're adults—we shouldn't even be watching this…_

Alfred made a noise in the back of his throat that clearly said he wasn't going anywhere, but settled back against Arthur's back.

"Gilbert—this isn't, this will never work. Yes, I do still care for you, and I probably am stuck with that for the rest of my life but I—it's not enough. You can't ask me to drop my entire life here so I can join the crew again. I care, deeply, for Roderich too and he—you can't ask me to do that. I'm sorry, but you can't."

"Then what the hell was that, just now? You going to run off and tell Roddy about how we got our jollies off in his own damn house, you sure he's going to take that just because he loves you?"

"You can tell him, if you want. I doubt he'll believe anything you say, but if that's the path you want to take, then go ahead, Gilbert—I'll tell him myself after you've all left and we'll deal with it between ourselves. But I'll tell you right now, that kiss, that wasn't me—I wasn't saying I wanted to be with you. I was—I was saying goodbye. Because I don't know—I am so very proud of you, of all of you, for what you're about to do but I—I don't think you're all going to come through this alive and I can't stand that!"

Arthur saw Elizaveta turn on her heel and hurry away as her words trailed off into choked off words, high-pitched and barely understandable, and felt his stomach clench in sympathy as Gilbert watched her leave, frozen, hands balled into fists at his sides. He stood motionless for another moment or two, as stiff an unmoving as Arthur and Alfred were, before he let out a deep huff that was possibly the most forlorn Arthur had ever heard him give. He walked out the opposite side of the entryway, rubbing at his eyes with slumped shoulders, not once noticing his audience. Arthur and Alfred stood in their corner for a few moments after they left, only Alfred's quick breathing giving sound to the empty room.

TBC...

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* Based off of "The Princess on the Glass Tower." The fairy tale is actually Norwegian in origin, but it fit better than any Russian fairytales I could find.

* **Strobilus**: Latin for pine cone, and another name for Mt Elbrus, which is one of the largest mountains in Russia and rests along the western border.

Reviews are love!


	19. Chapter 19

_****_Title : Of Silence and Thievery  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: SO...HI GUYS! I know there really isn't an excuse to explain why this chapter took like 5 months to come but...I really am sorry! This chapter is kind of plotty in my opinion but it has some stuff that NEEDS to be mentioned now or else there was nowhere else for me to sneak it in without messing up any future chapters. Bay, I apologize for giving you false promises a few weeks ago, but at least it's here now! XD I hope you all enjoy and remember comments are love.

Note 2: I've had some people comment they can't find the map of Avrupa. If you go to my profile and click on my homepage, that will take you to my LJ. I have a tag for SaT specifically and the map will be posted there.

P.S. The next chapter is massive...and a good part of it is smut.

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_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter Nineteen: Where the Winds Change and New Journeys Begin_

Alfred wasn't sure what he should be feeling more.

On the one hand, he was pretty damn excited to finally be heading towards Braginski's hide-out after years of failed attempts, at finally getting a chance to put a stop to that asshole and getting back everything, and everybody, that was taken (even if he wasn't entirely sure how to do that yet). Since the beginning, he'd always been one step behind Braginski and forced to chase and clean up the messes he left; all that had only strengthened his resolve to stop the guy and _now_ they actually had a shot to do it. They had direction, a destination, a freaking goal that was actually reachable and he felt like doing a victory dance around the ship, complete with some back flips and fancy spinning moves.

On the other hand, he was pretty damn terrified because everything they had been chasing after for so long was finally starting to happen and it seemed all too real and very dangerous. He knew, better than most actually, just how ruthless Braginski was and how powerful he was, and he knew going up against him wasn't going to be easy. Braginski was pretty tough on his own, but he had cronies, like Natalia, who believed in his crazy-train too; they'd be up against them, and Braginski's followers would likely still have their powers. He knew he was supposed to be brave and shit for everyone else, that he was supposed to be the hero because they needed him to be that but—if he was honest with himself, he was pretty scared about facing all of that power with his own limited strength, a group of fighters (even if they were badass fighters) and Arthur's might-work-but-probably-not voice.

And on top of all that, he was still reeling from what he and Arthur saw happen between Gilbert and Liz, because he didn't even know about how upset Liz was that they were leaving, and that made him feel like a dick. Because he should've known—he and Liz were friends, close friends, and he should've been able to see that while she'd been happy for them last night, happy they had found what they wanted, but she'd been quieter than usual. She'd been sad and upset that they were leaving again and there was the chance this was the last time she saw some of them. He should've known that she was still in love with Gilbert, even though she was with Roderich, and made more of an effort to keep them separated. Maybe then, she wouldn't have kissed him and he wouldn't have kissed her (he didn't know who started the kissing, he and Arthur had been pretty distracted beforehand and had stumbled on them in the middle of going at it) and there wouldn't be this whole air of awkward moment between them.

And just for shits and grins, he was also sexually frustrated; if there was ever a boner-killer, it was watching two of your best friends hook up behind another guy's back, another guy who Alfred thought was a pretty ok guy (if a little boring…and by little, he meant a lot). He was positive it was unhealthy for a guy to have so many different things running through his head at the same time.

They were down at the docks again, loading up the last of their personal packs and gear—the deckhands and Seychelles were already on board and getting the ship ready for an early departure so they could catch the tide out. It was a long journey to Zion and anytime they could save in getting there was going to be taken advantage of, Seychelles had told them all the night before, before the drinking had started. As a result, nearly everyone was miserable and hung-over, but ready to leave bright and early for fear of being left behind because Seychelles would do that (and had before). The only people who weren't hung-over were Alfred, Arthur, Vash and Kiku—but Vash was miserable for his own reasons. Lily was staying with Roderich and Liz in Vindobona and she was not happy about it—Alfred got Vash's reasons as to why though. She was so frail and had gotten really sick on the boat that last time, not to mention that once they landed in Zion, the journey to Braginki's hideout wasn't something she would be able to handle. And she had no business fighting against Braginski's lackeys. She was just a kid, a kid who survived something horrible, but a kid nonetheless.

Lily was still a little girl underneath all that maturity and old age and didn't understand all of that though; she was frowning and crying as Vash hugged her goodbye, anger practically leaking off of her despite her sadness and love for her brother. Alfred watched from a little bit away as Vash murmured something into her wispy hair and felt a pang of longing for Mattie. He'd promised to get him before they went after Braginski but—there just wasn't a way to get to Merica from where they were, not one that wouldn't delay them into winter and Ruthenia was going to be frigid in the summer as it was. They wouldn't survive it in the winter. He started a little when he felt a small, warm hand touch at his shoulder and he turned around to see Elizaveta's face smiling tearfully up at him.

"Aw, Liz come on, don't start that! We'll be all right; I'm leading us you know!" She shook her head and gave a watery laugh before she wrapped him in a tight hug. He returned it and met Arthur's gaze briefly from where he was saying his thanks to Roderich; those green eyes were telling him not to say anything about what they'd seen the night before. Arthur had said it would complicate an already 'bollixed up' situation if they mentioned they'd 'inadvertently eavesdropped,' but Alfred wasn't sure he agreed with that. Liz had been pretty upset over everything, she probably wouldn't mind or be embarrassed that they overheard all that crap if she had someone to talk to—and Alfred really needed to know what the hell was going on between her and Gilbert (but he was mostly concerned and just a little bit curious, so he still came out good and not nosy or whatever).

"Be careful, do you hear me, Alfred Jones? You be very, _very_ careful over there, don't go being an idiot!"

"I'll try hard, I promise." He smiled and loosened his hold; she took the hint and let him go, wiping at her eyes. He looked down at her, at how her eyes traveled over his shoulder for a moment where he knew Gilbert was helping Francis up the gangway, and bit his lip, indecision wracking him. To say anything or keep his mouth shut…why did these things always have to be so damn difficult? "Liz?"

"Hmm?"

"I uh—I just—you know how—"

"Any day would be nice, Al," She said with a grin.

"Hah, yeah. I just—I just want you to know what I'll keep a really good eye on everyone when we're over there, okay? I mean, I know that you—we'll come back! You don't need to worry or be sad about that; I'll make sure of it!"

He couldn't say it—maybe Arthur was right. Whatever was going on between Liz and Gilbert and Roderich really wasn't anything he could offer any advice over and she—she looked sad enough. Talking about it would probably just make her feel guilty and if Alfred was leaving it wasn't like she would get someone to talk to about it. He didn't want that. Not when they were all leaving and every word he was saying may turn out to be a lie.

He didn't wait for her to say anything else, just gave her hand another squeeze and turned around to head onto the ship himself, falling into step beside Rosa and Kiku. When he reached the top of the gangway and stepped back onto the _Evangeline_, he looked back to see Arthur and Vash exchanging their final farewells, Liz grabbing a surprised Arthur in a tight hug before letting him go, and heading up onto the ship. He smiled—he liked that Liz liked Arthur. It was kind of like getting sibling approval for his boyfriend and without Mattie there to give it, it was nice that the woman he'd come to view as a sister of sorts thought he was a good guy. Arthur wasn't the friendliest of people and gods above knew he was downright difficult most of the time (as most of the crew would say without any hesitation), but Liz had seen the good there too. It was nice that someone else had seen how awesome Arthur was, when not being a big pain in the ass. He grinned at Arthur the whole way as he climbed back to the ship, who returned his grin with a slightly confused look as he stepped up beside him.

_What are you grinning about?_

Alfred's eyes drifted down to the pendant for a half second before he shook his head and wrapped Arthur in a big hug. He stiffened a little, but returned it awkwardly when he got the hint that Alfred wasn't going to let him go without something in return. "Nothing. Just happy you and Liz get along."

Arthur gave him a look that clearly said he didn't believe that was all (or maybe Alfred was being paranoid and that look was really just him saying that he thought Alfred was a weirdo), but he didn't call him on it. _You didn't mention anything to her about what we saw, did you?_

Alfred shook his head. "Nah—I mean, she probably needs to deal with it on her own, like you said. Do you think we should talk to Gil though? I mean, he looks fucking depressed—look at him! He's just standing there, doing his job like he's supposed to!"

_And…that's an issue because?_

"Oh come on, you know that Gilbert never does anything he's supposed to, not without complaining loudly about it after Seychelles all but beats him into doing it. And he usually does it wrong—but look, he's being all productive and quiet. He is never quiet!"

Arthur looked over and a thoughtful expression stole over his face. _I suppose you do have a point. But I certainly don't want to speak to him about it and I'm sure that's the last thing he wants, if it's so upsetting. Even if you tried, he'd probably just use the deaf excuse and feign not being able to read your lips._

That was definitely true. "Yeah, I guess. It's just, it's all messed up and I feel kind of useless, and they're all my friends! I want to help them, if I can."

Arthur gave him a small, fond look and _Alfred_ felt his chest warm at the sight. _That's very sweet, Alfred, but they don't need your help here—they're adults and they'll need to work it out on their own. That doesn't make you a bad friend or anything._

Alfred wrapped his hand around Arthur's and he felt a thrill of happiness rush through him when Arthur didn't tug it away in embarrassment. "You're right, you're totally right. Not like I could really help anyway, I mean, when has anything like that ever happened to me, right? How did you get so smart, Iggy?"

_I read. You should try it._ Arthur's cheeks were a little flushed at the praise but he still hadn't pulled away. Alfred thought about kissing him, but didn't want to push their luck—so far, the crew was too busy to really notice them and tease them, but that would change if there was kissing to be watched.

"But why would I need to read when I have you to do it and be all smart for me?"

_You're an idiot._

"Whatever, you know I'm awesome!"

"Alfred! I need you and Arthur to stop being sickeningly adorable for a few moments and help Esther with drawing in the lines and anchor. You'll have plenty of time for that out at sea!" Alfred glared up at Seychelles and ignored some of the snickers sent their way.

"Thanks, 'Chelles, for that."

"Less talking, more working!"

Arthur set down his bags and tablet on the deck and tilted his head towards the back of the ship, creating a little more space between the two of them. _Come on, if we dally much longer she'll just get obnoxious._

He dropped his own packs and fell into step beside Arthur, reaching down and holding his fingers for a little as the boat began to move, slowly, away from the dock. It would move faster once the lines and anchor were pulled in, so they increased their pace a little to help Esther. They were actually leaving, leaving with a goal and a chance to find Braginski and he didn't have a clue; and Alfred was going to make sure he didn't find out from his weird peeking either. Excitement and determination ended up being the feelings to overcome everything else, which was good because it would have sucked if he showed to everyone, especially Arthur, how worried and freaked out he was too. After they finished reeling back up the anchor, Alfred glanced over the side and caught a last look at Elizaveta and Roderich waving from the docks, Lily in between them and holding onto their other hands tightly. He grinned big and waved at them with both arms—everything would be fine, it would. He couldn't allow for anything less.

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"—and I'll show every one of those rat-bastards what a mistake it was to cast me out so callously! You know how many crooks those idiots have caught in my absence? _Nada_! Or it might as well be _nada_. I'll be sure to rub that in their faces when I hire myself as a private enforcer and bring in more criminals than any of their teams combined!"

"It really is disturbing hearing you talk about rounding up those with Talent in your homeland, Rosa. Don't you think you can put your own gifts to a better use? I feel like slapping you, to be honest." Seychelles was frowning at a slightly inebriated Rosa and idly picking at her nails.

"I don't 'round up' _innocents, _Captain, only crooks, those who use their Talents to commit crimes against Anáhuac* and her citizens!"

"Mm, well, if you ask me, it's a rather fine line."

Arthur snorted silently from his spot beside Seychelles, sandwiched in between her and the side of the ship. Alfred was busy telling a wild story about how he and his brother once tamed a whole herd of buffalos when they'd been young using their powers together from a little bit away, but he would steal quick glances at Arthur every once in a while. He was nursing a pint of lager, one that had been a gift from Ludwig before they'd left Spandow, and listening as the crew exchanged stories of their Talents and what they would do once they had them back. Alfred was animatedly demonstrating how he wrestled an especially rowdy buffalo to the ground so Matthew could use his empathy to calm him to Kiku, Alejandro, and Sadiq. Gilbert was passed out and drunk on the table. Francis was sitting close to Seychelles, cradling her hand in his and was politely listening to Rosa rant about how she was going to put the police force in her country out of business once she returned with her Talent. Arthur had to agree with Seychelles—using her Talent to sniff out others with gifts was not all that moral, even if the pretense was that they were hunting criminals.

"Why do you not take up cooking? That seems much less morally ambiguous and you could still use your Talent."

"How very quaint and oppressing. Can you not think of another job more degrading job for a woman than being a coo? Waiting on demanding men day in and day out and serving them?" Arthur rolled his eyes at Esther, but she was focused solely on Francis so didn't notice (which he was thankful for, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it…Esther was frighteningly intense). "Why not tell her she should just be a house maker?"

"Now, now, Esther, there are plenty of men who are cooks as well. I was simply trying to provide an alternative to a job that hunts down her fellow, talented, men and women for no better reason than the government views them as dangerous. I'm sure Arthur would agree with me, coming from Britannia."

Five pairs of eyes swung toward him, but Arthur just shrugged and didn't bother to fish out his tablet. He was not in the mood to get dragged into a debate so late into the night. Esther shot him a disgusted look and Francis shook his head in exaggerated disappointment when he felt Seychelles pat his arm in a conciliatory manner, but Vash, Rosa, and Seychelles looked amused. But then, they knew better than to debate Esther in anything—the woman was more stubborn and close-minded than anyone he'd ever met who claimed to believe in progress and enlightenment.

"Well, as it seems I am alone apart from our dear captain in my argument, let me ask you this, Esther. What will you do once your Talent is returned to you?"

Esther shrugged and flipped back her long braid. "My speed had nothing to do with my position in Zion's military, thought it did help in performing missions—but there is a large, open field outside one of the trainees mess halls that I used to run through when I wished to relax or calm my mind. When I was at my fastest, the rest of the world would blur and only I remained, constant and focused amidst the whirlwind…I felt closer to the world and the One God in that field, so I suppose that is what I would like to do first and foremost."

They was a silence in their conversation, though Alfred's was still going on so it wasn't completely quiet or still, and Esther's face, which had gone uncharacteristically soft before was now morphing back into a frown. "What?"

"That—that was magnificent, Esther. Truly, truly moving." Francis placed a hand over his heart and there looked to be a little twinkle of wetness in his eyes—he probably wasn't mocking her, but Esther took it as such.

"What, I'm not capable of emotional thoughts? Is that it?"

"No, no! I'm sure what Francis means, underneath all the unattractive blubbering, is that it was simply unexpected. That was a really wonderful story and a little softer than what we were expecting you to want to do. It was much better than Rosa's at any rate." Seychelles elbowed Francis hard in the stomach and he stopped reciting tearful lyrics in Gaul with a choked wheeze.

"Mine was fine! Fine then, Captain, what will you do once your eye is returned? Hope the scarring will disappear?" Arthur was quickly wishing he was a part of Alfred's group, (they were talking about hunting and Gilbert, who had woken up and was rambling drunkenly, was trying to demonstrate how to properly hold a bow, with what appeared to be a coil of rope) and took a deep swig of his lager, despite not wanting to get drunk. Esther shot Rosa an unimpressed look and Rosa was too shit-faced to look anything but smugly mean. Seychelles, for her part, did not rise to the bait and gave Rosa a small, hard smile in return.

"Even with my scar, I believe that I still manage to attract who I target my affections for—can you say the same, Morales?" Rosa's face flushed and Arthur didn't miss the obvious way she darted her pretty brown eyes over to Alejandro for a lingering moment. "You should try to go for men who find peaks and curves, not flat plains, enticing. And to answer your question, no, I don't wish for my scarring to disappear, nor am I naïve enough to think it will. I would be happy with my navigation returned to me, whether I get both eyes back or not. I made a promise to myself when I was a young girl that I would chart every spare inch of the ocean and that is what I intend to do. So, I suppose I'll pick up where I left off—I hear the southern islands scattered around Indoi Sea* are lovely at any time of year."

She shrugged and looked over at Vash. "Will you and Lily head home, once her youth is restored?"

Vash shrugged and looked up at the night sky, surly expression more drawn than usual—he missed his sister. "Maybe. There's nothing there for us, not with our parents gone. I just want to let her live a normal life—she deserves that after all that's happened."

They all made humming noises of agreement (except Arthur who instead nodded along to show that he agreed) and took another swig of their pints. Francis sighed dramatically and swept his loose hair out of his eyes. "Also very moving! As for me, I will revel in seeing the world again, all the color and beauty I am deprived of now—my Vision would of course be useful as well, but I would rather be able to see in full color again. It is funny how much you miss the splendor of the world only when you are forced away from it—I'll have to write a moving novel about it, once we all know the end."

"What about you, Arthur? Would you go back home?"

Too what? He tried to keep the dark feelings that question invoked off of his face and he shook his head no. He could never go home, not unless Britannia suddenly decided to change their mindset on people with Talent and stopped believing they were the embodiment of Mother Dark's evil. Getting run out of his hometown by pitchfork wielding neighbors had pretty much solidified that in his head (not that getting sentenced to beheading after _he'd_ been attacked in his own home hadn't already done that already). He preferred not thinking about the future too much, it was too full of uncertainties and half-imagined promises and hopes. He looked up and noticed they were all still looking at him, waiting for him to share what he wanted to do once they succeeded in besting Ivan Braginski. He huffed an annoyed breath and grabbed his tablet and quill.

**I just want my voice back.**

"What about your Talent? I know you're practicing with Kiku on how to use it—will you do something with that?" Rosa's eyes were intent and she was leaning forward eagerly.

Arthur shrugged. **I didn't use it before. I just want to speak again, that's it.**

They didn't understand; none of them did. They didn't understand what it was to have a Talent in Britannia because none of them had been raised there—only Rosa might understand, but she was a government lackey so she didn't live in fear of her Talent and using it. Yes, Arthur's Voice was apparently quite the Talent and yes, he was trying to learn to use it after years of ignoring it, but that wasn't because he wanted too. It was because he had too. If he had any shot against Ivan, it would only be because of his Talent and he knew that—he was too powerful, too full of stolen power and good at using them together, if that encounter in the Nords had been any indication. Other than that though—he didn't need it. And frankly, he didn't particularly want it either, especially after all the trouble it had caused.

His conversation with Elizaveta, even though he hadn't wanted to think about it and all the issues it brought up, had actually made him realize how little he really cared about getting back his Talent. How, no matter how important to most of the crew it was getting back what had been stolen, all Arthur wanted was his voice back, and maybe not even that as much. He was adjusting to life with mutism and while it still frustrated him, not being able to speak, he wasn't as angry or upset as he had been initially. He could live his life without both and he'd be content—so really, he continued after Ivan because he wanted to bring justice to all the children like Lily, to the Vargas twins, to Alfred's brother who Arthur had never even met…

To Alfred.

And he certainly wasn't about to share that with anyone else because it was a little terrifying even to him, that he was willing to take on such a dangerous mission for Alfred. Because it was so important to him—and it was none of their business anyway. His eyes drifted over to where Alfred sat laughing at something Alejandro was saying, (or more like miming…it looked like he was demonstrating how exactly he'd be greeting Ivan once they found him) the light from the lantern catching in his hair and the wire of his glasses. He looked happy, at ease, and alive with energy; he'd been energetic before, but there had always been a kind of shroud weighing him down a little. He'd been disappointed and frustrated that they always arrived just a little too late. Now that weight was gone and Arthur felt his breath catch at how utterly gorgeous he looked in that moment. Yes, Arthur wanted his voice back, and maybe his Talent even, but really, he just wanted Alfred to be able to look like that all the time. He wanted Alfred to live for more than revenge—to live his life the way a young man ought to be able to.

_With me_. Alfred perked up and looked over at him and Arthur felt a pang of embarrassment that he had mouthed those, which of course let Alfred hear them through the pendant. Alfred cocked his head to the side and furrowed his bows adorably in question but Arthur pressed his lips tight together and shook his head. He only heard those two words, he hadn't heard all the others preceding it; Alfred held his gaze for a few moments before he shrugged and turned back to Alejandro's miming (he had now progressed to pretending he had someone in a headlock and was beating his face in). He blinked and turned back to his own circle and felt a flush at his neck as they all looked at him with varying degrees of amusement and mock-disgust.

"You two are so smitten, it's revolting." He smacked Seychelles in the arm with his quill, (which of course did nothing) and she chuckled at him fondly. He motioned at where she was practically sitting in Francis' lap and quirked an eyebrow at her. "We are completely different, much more mature. It's the benefit of dating an older man."

**I saw you two snogging like teenagers in the garden yesterday morning. Very mature, Captain.**

"Watch it, I can have you confined to the brig for mutiny."

"So you really don't even want your Talent back? Even though you can do _anything_ with it, _mijo?_" Rosa looked supremely disappointed in him, Vash wasn't paying attention, Francis was sniffing at Seychelles' hair, and Esther was looking at him appraisingly.

**If I had to choose, I'd rather my voice.**

And Alfred—but that part he kept to himself. For obvious reasons.

_******USUKUSUKUSUK**_

It was late and dark on board the ship, the only light coming from a few lanterns for the skeleton crew who were helming the ship while everyone slept below. Well, almost everyone; Kiku doubted very much that he was the only one still awake. He did think he was the only one awake and _alone_, however. A depressing thought, in a way, but Kiku found some comfort in it. Being alone meant he had time to organize his thoughts, think clearly without having to put so much effort into appearing like his mind wasn't a maelstrom of worry. A mess of memories that had been haunting him since Spandow, since Yao made his reappearance and revealed that the Fey were at work again. Putting their own events in motion to try and counteract the shift in the Balance he knew they all felt more intimately than he did, a shift that threatened the earth they cared for so deeply.

The fairies in the market had not been the first, nor would they be the last—he knew spell-based sickness when he saw it and Lily's sickness had not been an accident. If she had gone with them to the Byzantium, she would have slowed their party considerably and Vash, arguably their best swordsman, would have been more concerned with her then Ivan Braginski. Kiku knew how the Fey thought, how they worked, and when something as important as the Balance was in question, anything that could be considered a detriment had to be removed. They probably hadn't thought anything of it, infecting a little girl who had the constitution of an old woman with an illness that would prompt her to be left out of the fray. Kiku knew though, that if Lily had died, they wouldn't have been that upset. The 'baggage' would have been removed and Vash would have been even more focused on making Ivan pay for what he had done—they would have still got what they wanted. Life and death were immaterial, as long as the goal was achieved.

He sighed and looked out over the water, inky black in nothing but the star and moon light, and his tail curled around his stomach to ward off the chill from the sea blown wind. He'd hoped that it wasn't going to be his friends who the Fey rallied behind, his friends and surrogate family that became their 'champions.' That only meant they were in store for more grief and trouble. Feliks had seemed the logical choice for a long time—he had certainly made more progress in tracking Ivan and Natalia than they had and had even stopped them once or twice. But the Fey had still chosen to work their own magic over Kiku's friends, 'helping' the _Evangeline_ crew in their way. And Kiku feared a large part of that decision had to do with Arthur Kirkland.

His Talent was one of the most powerful ones he'd ever come across, eclipsed only by a select few, some not even alive anymore. He could do anything, create anything, and make someone do whatever he pleased all with a well stressed word and Kiku had little doubt the Fey recognized all of what that could do. He could literally topple governments, kings and empresses, maybe even Ivan, if he was properly trained. And yet, despite all that power and possibility, he didn't even seem to _care_. Yao probably had puppies when he first met him, when he realized just how strong Arthur was and how little he cared about it. He would've found the Balance's irony especially amusing in the way it had acted surrounding Arthur Kirkland—and it was funny, in a way. The Balance had given an insurmountable amount of power to someone who viewed it as a nuisance—and people thought the Balance wasn't sentient. Yes, Kiku had no doubt Yao laughed himself hoarse after he'd met Arthur in the Market.

Kiku felt a soft, sad smile tug at his lips at the thought—he both loved and hated this, thinking of Yao in a fond way, remembering how he had thought of him as his brother before everything had gone horribly wrong. It made everything so much harder.

Kiku had not been living in a Kitsune village when he'd had his sense of smell stolen as he had implied—it was one of the very few lies he had told everyone and he hated himself for it, but it was necessary. When Arthur, and anyone else before him, had asked when his smell had been stolen, he had been deliberately vague; he'd only given a timeframe, not a reference point, and allowed the assumption that it had been stolen in his old village to continue. In reality, Kiku's village had been destroyed by a neighboring den when he'd been a young kit and he'd been the ward of an allied den for most of his youth, kept around solely because they could sense he had been blessed by the Balance with magic. It hadn't been a terrible childhood, but it had been hard, growing up without the closeness and love his own den would have provided for him. He was useful to his new den, but not loved and it had been difficult living without that for so long.

And, somewhere within the confusion and melancholy that was his childhood, came Yao. Master Yao, who had taken him under his tutelage and promised to teach him the way of sorcery, how to use and channel magic the Balance had entrusted with him. Who'd become all of the family Kiku had lost before and became his brother, not just his teacher. And he'd been happy, for a time, even knowing there was something wrong with how close Yao played with the line of what was right and what wasn't. Even knowing that while Yao taught him things about the Balance and about the misuse of magic, he himself experimented and went against his own teachings, though Kiku was sure he never saw it as such. Not then, at least.

And then, somewhere in the happiness with Yao, had come Ivan Braginski, a young man who didn't have control of magic, but had a unique Talent and was eager to learn all he could from Yao. And everything had changed, gone wrong and left his entire relationship with the man who had saved him soured. It hurt too much to see him because that meant confronting the fact that his soul-bonded brother was also the one person who had unleashed a monster on everyone. It was difficult to reconcile everything between them, especially the more destruction Ivan left in his wake.

He shook his head and dragged his eyes away from the endless expanse of ocean surrounding the ship; he didn't come up here to muddy his mind even more. Focusing on the past and what had gone wrong wasn't going to help any of them, especially if the Fey were becoming more overt in their involvement. No, he needed to focus on what could be done to protect everyone and stop Ivan—and if returning everyone's stolen Talents and senses was something that was actually a likelihood.

Kiku feared that without Ivan's cooperation, it wasn't.

TBC...

_******USUKUSUKUSUK**_

*Anahuac (Aztec): place name used by the Aztecs to refer to the Basin of Mexico. Not on the map yet.

*Indoi Sea- Indoi is an Ancient Greek term used to describe the people of ancient India. Not on the current map, but think the Indian Ocean to get an idea of the size and location.

Review if you'd be so kind ^^


	20. Chapter 20

Title : Of Silence and Thievery **(20/34)**  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
Note: This has actually been ready for a little bit, but with snafus abound at FFN, this update got a bit delayed. I apologize profusely and hope both the length and the smut (I'm so good to you lovelies) makes up for some of the delay.

P.S. Would you look at that...there's in fact and actual end to this story in sight...at least until the sequel.

P.P.S. Reviews would be lovely :D

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter Twenty: Where Nikolai is Late and Alfred Finally Gets What He Wants_

The waters surrounding Pannonia were clear and warm, a far cry from the dark, icy blue oceans Nikolai was used to back in the Nords. It prickled differently against his skin and felt more playful than usual, much more wind-like and carefree; Oskar would have felt right at home. It felt odd to Nikolai.

He'd never been so far south before and he blinked up at the bright, sunny sky as he stepped out of the ocean and walked up the sandy beach. Even that was odd to him—he was used to black and gray sand that sung when you stepped on it, not the sunny, silent sand he saw people lounging on or building castles in. He reached up and adjusted the clip that kept his errant hair out of his face and continued walking up the beach until he reached a row of shops and restaurants along the ocean front. Vindobona was a far cry from Spandow and it showed in nearly every aspect of architecture and person; Nikolai was not worried about language barriers here. Everyone spoke Common in a port town as large as Vindobona.

He walked along the stores and tourist spots until he reached the docks, a sprawling, organized shipyard that could house upwards of a hundred ships. It was one of the biggest port towns in Avrupa, not to mention the best maintained, and Nikolai was hoping that organization would work in his favor in finding the _Evangeline_. He walked smoothly through the hurried crowd until he came upon a large, white building with a sign entitled 'Dockmaster' outside; he blinked and walked through the doors as a group of large, tattooed men ambled out. A plump, elderly woman peered up at him from her desk and she smiled politely.

"May I help you, sir?"

"Yes. I'm looking for a ship named the _Evangeline_ that should be docked here in port. I was hoping the Dockmaster might be able to help me locate where she would be."

"What business do you have with the ship and her crew, sir?"

Nikolai allowed a polite smile on his face which relaxed the woman's concern. "Just a message. I'm a friend of Captain Seychelles, I was told by one of her contacts in Spandow she was sailing here."

The woman hummed and started flipping through a large, leather bound book, the pages near the front yellowed and weathered and a far cry from the fresh, crisp pages she was flipping through in front of him. "Well, let's check the log first, see if they did stop by for a visit. Hm, _Evangeline, Evangeline, Evangeline_…ah! Here we are; it looks like they docked in with us five days past and—oh! Their docking fees were paid for by Lord Roderich Edelstein! Must have been a friend of the Lord's. Ah yes, they were anchored in his wing, it looks like, a bit east of here—Lord Edelstein donates quite a lot of his time and funds to keeping the docks clean and operating smoothly so he has his own, private docking area for any of his merchant ships that come to port. If you like, I can have one of the Dockmaster's apprentices take you there, see if they're still in port—I don't have a departure date, but this book hasn't been updated for a day or so. Been out sick with the flu, only just got back, sir."

Nikolai nodded. "I'd appreciate that very much, thank you."

She clapped her hands and called out for a young man to take him to the Edelsteins' docks; he gave her a final nod of thanks as he followed the lad out the door and down the cobbled, slightly wet road. It was midday so the port wasn't as busy as it would have been in the morning—Nikolai was thankful for the calm. The last thing he needed after nearly three weeks travelling through oceans as fast as he reasonably could was a bunch of raucous, rowdy sailors crowding all around. He was tired and had a horrible ringing in his head from the constant water pressure; the sunlight didn't help much either, not when his eyes had adjusted to the darker light of the ocean for so long. He followed the apprentice down a turn and noticed how much nicer the ships in this section of port looked—there were more yachts and less schooners. The apprentice came to a stop in front of a row of expensive looking cargo ships and gave Nikolai a short bow before he said he'd grab the overseer for the area.

Nikolai stared at the very noticeable absence, save for rippling water, in between the two cargo ships and he felt he had the answer he needed. They were gone—he had missed them again and he had practically exhausted himself in trying to get there before they left. His fists balled at his sides and he blew out a frustrated stream of air through his nose; for once, he wished that the _Evangeline_ crew was a little less efficient and a bit lazier. Now, he had no idea where they'd gone and the Medii was a large search ground to try and sift through; he felt a hand at his shoulder and turned around to meet a young woman's gaze, one that he hadn't seen in years.

"Nik? Is that—what are you doing here?" Elizaveta Hedervary-Edelstein was just as pretty as Nikolai remembered; the only difference was she was wearing an expensive dress instead of a stained tunic. "Ms. Mabel, the Dockmaster's secretary, she sent a runner to let us know we had someone calling after Seychelles and the crew, someone from the Nords by the look of him. Luckily we were already in the area so it didn't take us long but—what's going on? Is everything all right up north? Nothing's happened to the others, right?"

Nikolai shook his head and turned to look at the somber, serious man standing beside Elizaveta; this had to be Roderich, her husband. "No, we're all fine. At least they were when I left nearly a moon and a half ago."

"You must be Nikolai, one of the Nord Brothers, correct? Liz has told me about you. You control, ice is it?"

"Water. Berwald controls Ice."

"Oh, I'm sorry! Rod, Nik, Nik, this is my husband Roderich. I'm terrible at introductions. But, we're all met so now you can tell me why you're here. I know you wouldn't have travelled so far south just for a house call and don't you dare try to lie to me! I'm still involved in all of this, even if I don't sail with them anymore."

Nikolai was about to answer, not sure why Elizaveta was so convinced he was going to withhold information from her at all, when a familiar face popped out from a carriage that had pulled up behind them. He quirked an eyebrow as Lily made her way over to where they stood, looking up at them with confusion. "Nikolai? I thought that you didn't leave the forest. That you were the heroes that kept all the bad things in the forest from attacking the Nords and could never leave."

"Did Mathias tell you that?" Lily nodded and Nikolai felt a swell of fond irritation at the fire-wielder. "Well, he exaggerated a bit. We can leave, as long as we promise to go back. How else do you think Tino gets all that candied cinnamon bark for Oskar?"

Lily shrugged and looked up at Elizaveta, who was still staring at Nikolai intensely. "Nikolai, tell me why you're here."

"Tell me why Lily isn't on board the ship first, and then I'll tell you why I'm here." If she was going to insist on being so rude, he had no problem returning the favor. He was not in the mood for an interrogation.

"She got sick—"

"It's too dangerous—"

"Brother didn't want me to go with him! He was too worried I would slow everyone down!"

"Oh sweetie, no, that's not why at all! He was just worried about _you_, that's all! It's not safe where they're going and he didn't want you to be in danger." Elizaveta had crouched down and gathered the little girl to her in a gentle hug. "You know how hard it was for him to leave you, you saw him—he was so sad he was crying. He never cries, not even when he's hurt, but he cried because he was going to miss you so much."

Lily didn't say anything and only her sniffles echoed between the four of them for a moment; Nikolai watched as Elizaveta continued to rub calming circles into the little girl's back before he met Roderich's eye. "I need to give them a message, something they need to know before they try to charge Ivan's hide-out, swords blazing. Ludwig told me they were coming here to try and find a mountain range."

"And they found it—well, Lily did actually. They sailed for Zion two days ago. It's in the KauKhasis Mountains," Roderich replied.

"What do you need to tell them? Is it bad? Why are you talking in vague terms? Tell me right now, I'm worried enough as it is!"

Nikolai was starting to get a headache—Elizaveta always managed to give him a headache. "It's about Matthew."

"Alfred's brother?"

"Mattie?"

"Mattie didn't get to go either; Alfred said they couldn't pick him up because he's too far away." Lily's sniffles were heartbreaking—Nikolai felt a swell of empathy for her and almost reached out to pat her head in comfort. But, that would've just been awkward since Nikolai was the last person expected to give out platitudes of any kind, so instead he looked back up at Elizaveta. Her eyes were wide and she was looking at him as if she expected Nikolai to deliver news of Matthew's death—which he supremely hoped wasn't the case, but there was no saying with Ivan.

"I don't want it to spread, that's why I need to tell Alfred myself. I know you wouldn't say anything, consciously, but I really can't say anymore regarding it. If you could point me which city in Zion they're headed towards, it would help me follow a more specific current in the Medii—otherwise, I may not be able to reach them before they port. And I'll be all but useless trying to track them on land."

"He took him, hasn't he? That—he took Mattie?" Elizaveta's words were hushed and barely more than an exhale between the four of them, her face pale as marble, Roderich's mouth set in a grim, hard line, and Lily's eyes filling with tears. "Oh Lady above—that's it, isn't it?"

He met Elizaveta's stare but didn't acknowledge her guess as right or wrong; he suspected he didn't need to anyway; she glared back at his silence and her lips thinned into a line. He could only hope that Ivan's spies weren't aware of his movements yet and didn't know he knew about Matthew—he didn't think they were, but it was hard to say. He was sure that whatever Ivan's reasons for taking Matthew involved a certain amount of secrecy; otherwise he would've made it known by now. Having someone else tell Alfred that his brother had been taken was probably not how Ivan envisioned his whole plot unfolding. It wasn't that he didn't trust Elizaveta, because he did for as little as he knew her; it was that he didn't trust her good intentions to actually bring about any good in this situation. She was too emotionally involved and that wouldn't help her think clearly at all.

Silence echoed between them—she wasn't giving him any sort of answer about where to go and he really didn't have the patience, nor the time, for pettiness. He rubbed at his temples and looked back behind him towards the ocean, the blue water peppered by departing and incoming ships—they would make swimming difficult. Death by ship hull or propeller (if it was a newer, modern ship) was not something he'd imagined for himself. He was exhausted and the thought of diving back into the sea, no matter how connected to it he was, without any direction to head seemed tiring enough without the task of trying to avoid ships and rudders from the onset.

"Herzliya*—they're going to Herzliya." Nikolai turned back and met Elizaveta's drawn and worried face, the anger diminished a little. "It's where Esther's from and she has a reliable friend there who will keep the ship safe when they head inland. It's also a stop on the Old Road, which is one of the safer and more trusted roads through the Byzantium. They just left yesterday morning, I'm sure you can catch up to them before they pass by the Pannonia border and out into open waters. Gods, this is just—I'm sorry, Nik, I didn't mean to—I just have a terrible feeling about all of this and now Mattie is—"

"Don't say anything." He gestured sharply with his hand to cut her off. "To anyone. There's a reason why no one knows what's happened and I don't want to create an incident by letting _him_ know that his abduction isn't as secret as he thinks—and I don't want him to send his supporters after you."

Elizaveta looked defiant again, as if she was moments away from shouting for the entire dock to hear that she didn't care about keeping safe and she wanted to help find Matthew (Nikolai knew her enough to know that's what she was preparing to rant about), but Roderich stepped forward and placed a hand firmly on her shoulder. "I understand, Mr. Nikolai. Discretion would be a better ally to Matthew now, at least until we understand the intentions of Ivan Braginski better."

Nikolai surveyed Roderich coolly for a moment before he decided he meant what he said and wasn't just trying to placate his wife. He nodded his head in thanks and looked back to Elizaveta, who still looked unhappy. "Your husband grasps the situation better than you do—I know you're worried about him, that you've come to view him and Alfred has brothers, but you'll do him no good getting him killed or locked up even tighter than he might be right now. Besides, Vash obviously entrusted you to look after his sister, endangering her by becoming a target for Ivan's anger seems counterproductive."

She flushed and narrowed her eyes at him; Nikolai raised his eyebrow at her in response. "I'm not going to put her in danger, but I can't just sit here and do nothing!"

"You already chose to do so, haven't you? Or, was there something else I was supposed to gather in seeing you here on the docks instead of on board a ship?"

"You—!"

"That's enough, both of you." Elizaveta flushed again, this time in embarrassment and glanced back at her husband, who was looking at them both with an unimpressed look; he had a wide-eyed Lily tucked into his side. Nikolai met the stare evenly; he didn't feel remorse for what he had said because it was the truth. Maybe it came out sharper than he had intended, but he was tired and this was why he hardly ever liked dealing with other people—they were too frustrating. Elizaveta was more frustrating than most. Damn it, Tino should have been the one to do this, he was better at the whole communication thing (Nikolai was quite content with his solitude, thank you). "Liz, I hate to say it, but he's right. We're not going to be any help to Matthew if he gets hurt by our actions and Lily has to be our priority. You had the option of leaving with them, you know I would have supported you, but you chose to stay here—she has to take precedent. I promised Vash I would do whatever was necessary to keep her safe."

Roderich turned back to Nikolai and looked down his nose at him, probably in an attempt to make Nikolai feel inferior; he felt no such thing. He actually felt a little humored, because honestly, a merchant, even a wealthy one, wasn't about to unsettle someone who'd been chosen to embody the element of water. "And Mr. Nikolai, I understand you're need for swiftness in this matter, but do not patronize my wife's choices because of it; staying here, with me, instead of joining her friends was likely one of the hardest things she has ever had to do."

Nikolai almost wanted to roll his eyes, but that would've been in poor taste, (and firmly put him in the Mathias-level of maturity and Nikolai was not about to have anything in common with that moron) so he abstained. He nodded in acknowledgment and fixed a teary-looking Elizaveta with a calmer expression. "Apologies, if I upset you; it was not my intention."

She shrugged and wiped at her eyes. "It's fine, I know you're absolute shit at talking to people—"

"Language, Liz."

"—and I'm just more of an emotional wreck than usual right now. I hate it when they all leave."

Nikolai couldn't share the sentiment, (it was generally a reason to celebrate when Seychelles and her crew left because it meant she took her band of idiots with her) but he nodded anyway, which seemed to appease her enough to smile wanly. He straightened his spine and cleared his throat when the silence grew uncomfortable again; he had been distracted long enough. "Herzliya, you said?"

Elizaveta nodded. "They were going to ride the currents off of the Pannonia coast to start, in case anything needed last minutes fixes before they deep-sea sailed. But yes, Herzliya is where they're headed."

"Thank you." He spared them both another nod before he turned and left, grateful that the whole, painful exchange was facing the back of him (Ludwig had been so much easier to deal with—he was so serious all the time, it meshed well with Nikolai's nature).

"Nikky!" He turned at the horrible nickname and looked at Lily's wide, scared eyes. She was sandwiched in between Roderich and Elizaveta, each of her frail hands encased in one of theirs. "Can you tell my brother that—that I'm sorry I yelled? I don't want him to think I hate him if he…"

If he doesn't come back was the unsaid fear that echoed in the space between them. He really wasn't looking forward to more emotional 'talks' but by the Balance, how was he supposed to say no to the little girl? She had enough to worry about as it was. He nodded once at her before walking to the edge of the dock and peering over into the dirty water below. He was drained, had a headache, and was not looking forward to smelling like sewage and trash, but time was a luxury he didn't have. He could eat later (raw fish was starting to get a little old but it was free food), he could bathe later, and could rest after he'd given his message. He reached out his hands and swirled the water up to meet him, cocooning his arms, then torso, and then the rest of his body in a suit of sorts, letting it meld into his skin until the familiar hum settled so deep inside him he couldn't tell where he started and the water began.

And, with a final step, water whooshed up in a giant wave and he dove beneath the surface with it.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

"I don't understand why we must go through all of this now, Esther. We are at least four weeks away from Herzliya—wouldn't it make more sense to review all of the customs and practices once we are closer, so they are fresher in our minds?" Seychelles couldn't help but echo Rosa's reasoning and glanced up at Esther's serious face. She didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb once they reached the Byzantium, but she also had quite a lot to do before they reached Zion; going over customs and things to expect so early seemed a little premature. "And why are we split up men and women? I'm sure Sadiq has plenty of insight that we could learn from as well; he has lived in the Byzantium longer than you."

"We're learning it now because you will need to practice what I teach you here so that you draw as little attention to yourself as possible—you will be lucky if you can master everything in four weeks. And there are different rules for women than men, and Sadiq, being a man, wouldn't be able to go over those things satisfactorily. The Byzantium is a dangerous enough land as it is, even more so for foolish, western women who don't know when it's best to keep their mouths shut."

Rosa glared at Esther but didn't argue—Seychelles was grateful for it. She cleared her throat and drew both of the other woman's attention to her. "I'm assuming these rules have to do with the oppression of women in the Byzantium, correct?"

Esther nodded and gave a thin-lipped smile. "Yes, captain. Though, you will find that many in the Byzantium do not view it as oppression, but rather protection—and many of the women agree with that mentality."

"Did you?" Rosa's voice was still sharp and almost looking for an argument. Esther, to her credit, didn't rise to the bait and kept her calm.

"Obviously not, otherwise I would not be here. Zion is more relaxed than other Byzantium nations regarding women's roles and rights, but it is still far different from Avrupa. After my Talent had been taken, I was expected to quit the military and start a family, a fate that was expected of me before Ivan had even attacked me. My family viewed my Talent being stolen as a disappointment, but nothing worth fretting over since I wouldn't need to be in the military much longer—suffice it to say, they were displeased when I did not agree with them and set off to hunt Ivan." Esther's voiced sparked in anger near the end of her story; Rosa's face softened a bit and Seychelles felt a pang of indignation for her crewmate run through her.

Seychelles had a feeling that travelling to Zion, and further through the Byzantium at that, would become much more complicated than most of her crew anticipated. She was just as excited as everyone else was at having found the mountain Arthur saw, to finally have a goal and direction, but travelling through the Byzantium wasn't going to be easy. Especially if they were going to try to do it discreetly so not to alert Ivan how close they were to actually finding him. Seychelles' home island wasn't like the Byzantium at all, but she knew how much people from Avrupa stood out when they visited. They were mostly fair-skinned and bright-eyed, and stood out so obviously amongst all the dark skin of the islanders of Sesel*. It was almost painful at times, watching tourists wandering through the sea port towns, and if they were so obvious at home, they would be even more so in a land that was hostile and untrusting towards westerners. Listening to Esther speak about it and worry about how they were going to react—complicated didn't quite cover the scope of what they were facing.

"And Zion is, again, more relaxed of the Byzantium nations, possibly because we are nearly constantly at war with our neighbors and can't be bothered with all the tradition most of the time, but there are still certain expectations of women and if you draw attention to yourself as a westerner, you'll only be creating problems down the road. Especially when we enter more closed off nations like Persica—this is as much for your own safety as well as for discretion. We won't do anyone any good if we're stoned to death by angry villagers before we can reach Ruthenia."

"Stoned to death? Really?" Rosa's voice was dripping with disdain.

"Yes. Stoning is still considered a viable right of men against heathens and blasphemers and allowed in nearly every principality of the Byzantium. Even in the larger capitals where there is more progressive thinking, stoning is still likely to happen if someone is acting offensively enough."

"Speaking my mind and when I chose to is hardly offensive!"

"Not to you, but to a Persican man, yes it is and it will draw attention to us," Esther snapped. She rubbed at her eyes before taking a seat in front of them, looking at Rosa's fiery anger with a weary, somewhat regretful look. "Listen, I do not agree with this, and I'm certainly not looking forward to having to wear a burka that hinders my movements and limits my fighting, nor am I looking forward to deferring to Sadiq or Alfred at nearly every turn, but it's necessary if we want to make it through the Byzantium nations with minimal problems. Avrupa is filled with lands of change and progress, of art and acceptance—the Byzantium is a land of tradition and honor and they have a radically different way of thinking what constitutes those two things. If we are to survive, we must adapt ourselves to them, because they certainly aren't going to do it for a group of 'western filth,' people they don't want walking on their land as it is."

Silence echoed between them for a moment before Seychelles broke it. "You're right, Esther. We don't have to like it, in fact I am sure we'll hate every second of it, but we all knew we signed up for a difficult road when we decided to hunt Ivan. The crew will follow your and Sadiq's instruction on whatever you deem necessary."

"But captain—!"

"Everything, Rosa. Otherwise the past four years will have been for nothing. A few weeks of discomfort will not kill you, you are stronger than that." Rosa met her stare for a moment before she huffed, but visibly deflated back into her seat. Seychelles gave her an approving nod before turning back to Esther, waving her to continue. "What is your opinion then? What should we be aware of not to do?"

"The first thing I would have you practice is walking. You both are women of power and command and it shows when you walk, it will show to these people, even under the burka. So, up." Seychelles got to her feet, Rosa more slowly. "When you move, I would position yourself behind one of the men, and have your feet mirror their strides, just shorter and tighter to your body. Think of how Kiku walks. Subdued, controlled and aware. That is how you must adapt your own stride."

Esther got back to her feet and pointed their attention to her feet and legs. She took small, measured steps across the deck and Seychelles thought it remarkable how something so simple made Esther, a proven warrior, seem meek. She did it across the deck and back before she beckoned them to try. Seychelles glanced down at how Esther was moving and tried to mimic the motions as best she could—it was awkward and slow going, not at all how she normal moved. She had a feeling she was failing horribly (the wobbling was probably not desired—but at least she hadn't completely stepped out of line like Rosa had), but Esther didn't say anything. She just watched them for a moment before she made a negating gesture with her hand.

"You need to keep your eyes lowered. In the Byzantium, for a woman to look at another man outside her husband or family without being addressed directly, which will not happen often unless you are the first wife of a Sheikh, is brazen and often considered an invitation. In the burka the only parts of you that are seen are your hands and your eyes, and even an innocuous motion or look can be interpreted as insulting or offensive. Zion will not have such harsh rules, as women do not wear the burka there, but once we enter Anatolia*, it is something you must remember and be aware of."

"If we must look down and must shuffle our feet, how exactly will that give us an advantage if we are ambushed?" Rosa's eyes were bright and she seemed to be working herself up again; she had a temper and let her emotions run away from her too often, Seychelles thought. "We might as well have a collar and leash attached to our necks, _mis Dios_!"

"First you must master how to move like a woman of the Byzantium; once you've done that, we can work on how you can manipulate the submission into strength."

"A question, Esther. If women are kept under such tight control in these lands, how exactly are we going to handle the fact that none of us are married? I assume that it won't matter to most of the Byzantium that we're from Avrupa and are not expected to marry to be allowed outdoors."

Esther met Seychelles' stare and shook her head in minor disbelief. "I thought that obvious—we're pairing up once we reach Zion and will be giving the appearance that we _are_ married. Sadiq and I are paired together, you and Francis, and Rosa will be paired with Alejandro, and don't argue with me Rosa; you will work best at this with him. The ruse will only work if we are believable as a couple, and these pairings will work the best."

"Yes, because you and Sadiq get along so well!" Seychelles agreed with Rosa on that point. Sadiq and Esther had all but ignored each other since he joined the crew—Zionites did not get along well with their neighbors was the only answer either of them would give.

"We are from the Byzantium and know best how to act; a group of westerners getting toured through the nations by a native couple will be much more believable—there are families who make it their business and livelihood in giving guided tours through the Byzantium for non-natives who wish to travel here. It is our intent to masquerade as a married couple who run such a business and you are our fare, perhaps there on a group honeymoon or something. It is the path least likely to cause questions or attention."

Seychelles nodded and Rosa deflated back against her seat a second time, her pout very clear on her face and making her look about ten years old. The plan Esther was proposing did sound like it would work and frankly, she was looking for the easiest way to get through the Byzantium they could find. If that required all of what Esther was presenting to them, then that was what they would have to do; simple as that. She glanced over at the group of men who were to go ashore and took in the angry look on Alfred's face. Arthur looked resigned and was rubbing at his temples while Kiku attempted to calm Alfred down. "I am assuming that if unmarried women are not welcome, those who lie with the same gender aren't either."

Esther blinked at her, her gaze flicking over to the men for a moment. "I would have thought Sadiq's attitude would have given you that answer. He is more progressive than most Byzantium men, which should certainly give you a hint as to what the majority of them are like. It is going to be a hard road for us all."

Seychelles hummed and watched them for a moment longer before she turned back to Esther, focusing her mind from problems she could not control to those she could. "Show us how to walk again, please. If this is as important as you say, I want to be sure I master all that I can while we're sailing."

Esther nodded and demonstrated again, Seychelles and eventually Rosa, falling into awkward steps behind her.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

"This is bullshit! Just because some old guys an ocean away don't like it, we have to hide and pretend we're not together? What the hell, man?" Alfred was fucking furious; he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so angry, and that included the whole 'Arthur-wandered-off-on-his-own-in-Spandow' fiasco and Ivan attacking Mattie. Those had been angers mainly born from fear and worry—this was just good old fashioned pissed off, indignant and righteous anger. He was pacing the room angrily and had already thrown off his jacket; he really wanted to punch something, but Sadiq was huge and had a big-ass sword. That wasn't going to end well for anyone, even if Alfred could feel echoes of his strength thrumming under his skin. His nostrils flared as he took in another deep, angry breath and he turned to glare at Arthur, who was sitting on the edge of the bed and watching him with calm eyes.

Why the hell wasn't he angry? "Aren't you pissed? This fucking sucks! And the whole time that jackass was telling us how we needed to keep the 'blaspheming under wraps' and 'act normal' he had this stupid little smirk on his face. We are normal, just because the Byzantium is so back-ass-wards doesn't mean we're suddenly wrong! I want to kick him so bad, like in the shins…or his face."

_I wouldn't suggest it. His sword is nearly as large as he is._

Alfred stopped pacing and stared at Arthur, whose collected expression made him even more upset. "Why are you so calm about all this? Aren't you mad that we're gonna have to be miserable for like weeks? I thought that—why aren't you upset?"

Arthur sighed silently, but Alfred could almost hear a whisper of it against his mind with the pendant on. _I am, Alfred. But there's no changing it—you don't have to agree with it, but we're not going to change the way an entire continent thinks. _

"Well, we should! That's crap that they discriminate against so many people for nothing other than being different because they think it's wrong! It's not even wrong, not from where we're from!" Arthur finally started to look annoyed; he stood to his feet and pushed his hair out of his face.

_And that is what you don't understand, Alfred. We're not in our homelands, we're in theirs and when you're different in a land that doesn't accept it, you must adapt yourself to survive! Am I happy about it? Of course not, but this is not the first time I've had to pretend to be something I am not, and just because you've never had to doesn't mean you can accuse me of not caring just because I'm not acting like a petulant child, like you!_

Alfred reeled back and wanted to argue (he really, really did), but the words dried up in his mouth. He hadn't really thought about that—he didn't think anyone really thought about what it must've been like for Arthur before he joined the crew. He felt a rush of guilt and shame settle in his stomach and the tension slowly left his limbs and face; Arthur huffed and rubbed at his temples before he turned just enough so that he wasn't facing Alfred. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Alfred took a deep breath, steeling himself, and stepped forward enough to touch Arthur's shoulder hesitantly. Arthur didn't turn his way but he didn't jerk away either—Alfred hated that he was still so bad at this. Half the time he didn't know what was the right thing to say, and the other half of the time it freaked him out how much he cared about Arthur and he ended up looking like an idiot. It was frustrating how complicated everything was turning out to be when he always thought being in love would be the easy part after finding someone.

As it turned out, falling in love was the easy part, staying in love though? Not so much.

"I wasn't—I'm sorry, Iggy, I didn't really think and was just so angry, mainly because Sadiq is an asswipe, but I don't think that—shit, I'm saying it all wrong, can you help me out here?"

Arthur snorted, the motion unmistakable, and angled himself so that he met Alfred's eyes with his own, not upset really but still unimpressed. _You're sorry you acted like a bullheaded sod and you didn't mean to imply that I am not as upset by this whole scenario as you are because I wasn't throwing a tantrum, therefore implying that I obviously am not as invested in this relationship as you, which was something I'd rather hoped we'd passed with the numerous discussions, all of which were uncomfortable, we've had regarding the subject. _

Alfred winced. "Yeah, all that. Sorry, I really didn't mean to be such a jerk and imply any of that stuff. Just pissed, you know? We shouldn't have to hide just because a bunch of old farts can't deal."

Arthur's mouth quirked up a little in humor as he nodded; he patted Alfred's hand before moving to sit back on the edge of the bed and Alfred followed his movements before he followed, sitting down beside him. "So, uh, did you really have to hide like that in Britannia?"

Arthur gave him a look of disbelief. _They were going to behead me, Alfred. They chased us out of town by pitchforks. What do you think?_

"But what about your family? Or friends?" Alfred's heart clenched a bit when he saw Arthur smile darkly and shake his head.

_My relationship with my brothers is not the same as what you have with Matthew. The only person who didn't treat my Talent as something to be ashamed of was my mother, and she died when I was seven. I was encouraged to not use my Voice in our home and after my father passed, my eldest brother made it very clear that they would support whatever the townspeople wished if my Talent was discovered. As you saw, that included getting my head chopped off. The only brother I even remotely got on with was Rhys*, and he skipped town as soon as I was old enough to apprentice at the bookshop to be with some chit of a girl he'd met in Londinium. _

Arthur shrugged but didn't look upset—he just looked resigned and a tad regretful. He must have taken in Alfred's face though because his eyebrows softened down a bit and he grabbed Alfred's hand comfortingly. He shouldn't have been the one comforting; he should have been the comfortee. Alfred shook his head and tightened his fingers around Arthur's. "I'm really sorry, Arthur. I mean, I knew that Britannia was kind of harsh to people who had gifts but—that sucks about your brothers."

_You don't need to apologize; you can't help how they think._

"Well, no, I know that but—I was being really insensitive before, about the whole needing to hide our relationship and stuff, when you've dealt with this crap like your whole life!"

_You're insensitive nearly every time you open your mouth, Alfred._

Alfred smiled a little because Arthur had definitely said that with humor. "Maybe, but I was worse this time."

Arthur rolled his eyes but leaned over and kissed his neck regardless; Alfred felt a rush of warmth from the simple touch and he felt both happy that Arthur wasn't pissed at him anymore and unbearably depressed because soon they wouldn't be able to do stuff like that. Not without being super careful and that made kissing and stuff more like a chore; Alfred liked the surprise kisses and touches, they were spontaneous and he love spontaneity. He sighed noisily and rubbed at his eyes under his glasses; Arthur sort of started to glare at him, probably thinking he was about to start complaining again. And maybe he was, but it wasn't angry complaining (ranting, Arthur called it) so he ignored it and flopped down onto his back, one hand resting under his head like a pillow. "This is going to suck. A lot. Major suckage. I mean, we touch like all the time, right? Now we're going to have to walk on opposite sides of the group just to be safe."

_Safe from what?_ It was his turn to give Arthur an unimpressed look and he hated that the smirk on his face made him want to kiss him more than ignore him.

"From doing stuff that will get us stoned to death."

_Ah, that. _

"Stop playing dumb, you're really bad at it."

_You would be an excellent judge of that._ That was it. Alfred huffed and snatched Arthur's arm in his hand and pulled him down onto the bed; Arthur's face went slack in shock at first, but by the time that Alfred was settled above him, still holding him down by his arm, he looked more amused than anything else.

"I think you should stop being a jerk."

_I think you should put your mouth to better use and start making up for the time we won't be able to do this._ Alfred went red to the tips of his ears and a coil of warmth settled in his stomach, but he leaned down and complied with the demand. He moved in between Arthur's legs and his hands drifted off of Arthur's arms to trail down his sides, freeing Arthur's arms to reach up and lock behind the nape of his neck. Arthur surged forward and up into Alfred's mouth and he let out a stream of air that sounded like a sigh in Alfred's head; he wished for the millionth time he could actually hear that noise out loud, not just in his head. Alfred let out a whimper (it was a manly whimper though, not wimpy or anything) when Arthur took his bottom lip between his teeth and he rocked forward, pressing their hips together. Alfred felt too hot and too pressed in all at once and the feeling curled in his stomach, rushing out from the bottom of his feet to the tip of his nose.

Arthur pushed up halfway into a sitting position, legs still stretch out in between Alfred's, and he worked his hands under Alfred's tunic, pulling it up and over his head with quick movements; Alfred let out a deep, much more appropriate groan as his hands crawled up his chest before dropping back down to work on the button of his pants. He hooked has own hands behind Arthur's neck and angled his head sharply, mapping out the inside of his mouth with his tongue, feeling the quick intake of air flutter across his lips. Arthur abandoned trying to work his hand inside Alfred's pants and tugged him back down as he fell back to the bed, getting Alfred's hands stuck behind them for a moment until they were roving all over again.

"Arthur? Remember what—what we talked about in Liz's house?"

Arthur moved his mouth to Alfred's neck and he could feel the hum against his skin. Alfred let out another groan as Arthur nipped and licked his way down Alfred's neck to his shoulder, paying a bit more attention to the juncture where they met before moving back up. He pushed himself away a little, created space between them enough to look at Arthur, knowing that he couldn't be able to think anything, let alone ask what he wanted to do, if Arthur kept touching him everywhere. Arthur's face was flushed and his lips were bigger and wetter than usual from kissing and Alfred had to struggle to keep himself from swooping straight back down again.

"You remember what we talked about? What I wanted to do?"

Arthur's breathing did not calm down from the pause in activity and he nodded slowly, eyes hooded and glazed as they looked up at him; Alfred loved it when Arthur looked at him like that. Made him feel more confident, more handsome and more everything really. "Yeah? Well—I still really, really want to. If you want to, I mean."

Arthur pushed himself back up onto his forearms so his face was close to Alfred's. _Of course I still want to. That is possibly the stupidest question you have ever asked._

Alfred grinned and leaned in a little so their noses were touching and brushing. "Yeah?"

_Yes._ Alfred chuckled a little with emphasis he felt on the word in his head.

"So—so that's awesome then! Do I need to—I mean, is it easier or—what should I do?" He felt stupid asking like that but—he really didn't know what to do and even though he really wanted to do this, he was kind of nervous too (but that was normal…he was like ninety-nine percent sure of it). Arthur didn't laugh or scoff at him though; he just nodded as if he understood all of what Alfred was trying to say in those stuttered sentences and pushed himself up all the way. Alfred scooted back onto his knees to make room and moved over to switch positions at Arthur's wordless gesture, feeling a thrill of anticipation run through him as Arthur settled over him. He really had been thinking about this for weeks—almost constantly (he'd keep that to himself though, he was pretty sure saying that out loud just made him a pervert or something). And now, it was happening, and that was the only thing that was making the idea of what awaited them once they got to Zion suck a little less.

_Well, first thing first. This is infinitely easier when you're naked. _Alfred let out a breathless kind of laugh and nodded, reaching down and finishing what Arthur had started earlier before shucking the pants and underwear off. Arthur did the same and there was a moment where they both seemed to realize this was still new, seeing each other completely naked. It wasn't awkward exactly, but it still felt a little nerve-wracking. Then Arthur smiled and leaned down to press a soft, simple kiss to Alfred's lips, pressing their bodies up against each other without clothing getting in the way. And it was fucking awesome.

"You—you're so freaking sexy, Artie. I swear, like the sexiest thing ever, and I mean yeah I don't really have a lot to compare it to but just, yeah." The press, slide, and touch felt way too good to feel self-conscious over what he was saying. Arthur's cheeks colored and his fingers brushed down Alfred's leg, teasing into his thigh but not touching anywhere Alfred really, _really_ wanted him to touch. "Going slow? Worst idea ever. I mean, maybe not ever because it was a good idea at the time but we should've put a time limit on it, like a week…or a day, whatever."

He was aware he was babbling, but he couldn't seem to help it. Arthur just—he made Alfred feel things all the time and it made him act like an idiot, more so than usual. Babbling was included in his idiotic behavior, especially if it was babbling happening at a completely non-babble appropriate time, like when Arthur's mouth started kissing up his chest and his cock rocked down against his own. He reached up and dug his fingers into Arthur's back, keeping him close and pressing him down hard into a kiss when Arthur finally made his way back to his lips. Keeping his mouth occupied seemed the best way to stop the babbling, even if Arthur hadn't said anything about it before.

Details started to blur away as they kept on kissing and touching and pressing—Alfred felt a little light-headed and couldn't get enough to Arthur's warm weight all around him. The first time they had sex, there was so much emotion and awkwardness and they'd tumbled into bed after kissing for the first time for crying out loud! They hadn't really known how to touch (and by 'they,' Alfred knew he meant just him) each other and while it had been awesome, it could've been a lot better. This though, this was different. They'd had time to get used to being together, to figure out where they liked to be touched, where they liked to be kissed, and had gained comfort in just being near one another. It didn't seem like much, but rolling around together now, all loose limbs and easy touches, Alfred had to admit it made a huge difference. He couldn't remember a time he was more turned on and judging by the tremors in Arthur's back and how quick his puffs of air hit his chest, it was the same for him.

Arthur pulled away a little and looked at Alfred with bright eyes, the green nearly black as his irises expanded in arousal. _If we're doing this, we're going to need some sort of lotion or oil._

Alfred felt a flush attack his ears and he smiled shyly before he pointed to the small, beside table drawer. "Yeah, I kinda figured…so I got something when you were stuck in the library. I didn't—I made sure Gilbert didn't see what I got."

Arthur smiled and gave a silent chuckle; Alfred loved it when Arthur laughed because he hardly ever did it. It made him look younger, freer, and more his age; it made Alfred feel like he could stare at him forever. He really wished he could hear it, out load, not just the echo in his head. Arthur leaned further away to pull open the drawer and grab the slim bottle of oil; Alfred had to clench his fists tight to keep from reaching up to tug him back. Arthur settled back in between Alfred's legs and set the bottle to the side, his face still flushed but the excitement dimmed a little as he looked at Alfred seriously.

_If at any time you are uncomfortable or want to stop, you need to say so. Bottoming isn't something every man likes, and if you try to force yourself you're only going to end up extremely sore and upset. _

"I really, _really_ want to though so—"

Arthur placed his fingers against Alfred's lips, his face going a little stern. _I'm serious Alfred. You need to be honest with me. Can I trust you to do that?_

Alfred met Arthur's eyes and nodded his head under Arthur's fingers. The way Arthur was looking at him was—Alfred had never had someone who looked at him like that. Warmth of an entirely different sort erupted in his stomach and he had to fight the urge to giggle and flail a little bit. "Yeah, ok."

Arthur nodded as he removed his hand. _Good. Now, it's normal for this to feel a little, odd, especially if you've never touched yourself there before and you'll need to relax through it._

"Ok." The moment Arthur told him he'd need to relax, he tensed up automatically in response; he took a few deep breaths and settled back down, letting the heat and lazy arousal swirling through him come to the forefront again. He wanted this, liked wanted it so bad it was hard to think about anything else, and it was happening; Gods, he was so hard it literally hurt. Arthur smiled down at him again and kissed the top of his knee softly before he grabbed the bottle and uncorked it. Alfred watched him drizzle a little onto his fingers before corking it shut again and then he laid his head back down, feeling awkward at watching Arthur start to lean towards his, well, his ass. There really wasn't any other schmoopy or romantic word for it.

The first touch wasn't as cold as he thought it would be and it actually felt pretty nice; Arthur was massaging around his hole and it was shooting coils of soft pleasure up his spine. Once the finger started pushing in though, that did feel weird and Alfred had to clamp down hard on the urge to wiggle away. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't exactly nice feeling—he knew it had to change though because Arthur had really liked it when he'd done this. Arthur didn't rush or push too much too fast, just kept alternating between massaging and pressing one finger in until it did start to feel kind of nice. He let out a pleased little noise and felt Arthur pull his finger out completely—it was weird how he wanted it back almost immediately.

Arthur pressed in again, this time two fingers, and this time it did hurt a little. It stretched and burned in a way that reminded him of trying to do the splits for the first time when you'd never tried it before. He grimaced and this time he couldn't resist the urge to wiggle away; Arthur's free hand cupped the side of his face and Alfred looked up and met his eyes. He looked so—so fucking hot like this, face flushed, lips parted, and staring down at Alfred with so much emotion it brought a smile to his face despite his discomfort.

_Breathe, love. Take a deep breath and relax—then I want you to bear down on my fingers. It'll feel more comfortable that way._

"I don't get why this obviously felt way better for you than it does for me right now."

_I'll show you why, but you need to relax first; I can't do anything with just the tips of my fingers in. _

Alfred nodded and tilted his head back; it was weird, staring up at Arthur when his fingers were in his ass. It made him feel small but safe all at once—it was easier to deal with that feeling when he could close his eyes. He did as Arthur instructed and found it was a lot easier to take the fingers when he did bear down on them; it still felt weird but it didn't hurt as much. Arthur moved them back and forth in a gentle motion until Alfred could feel the fingers pressed in all the way to the second knuckle. They felt okay, kind of, but mostly it just felt like he had something shoved up his ass. He was starting to wonder if maybe he was a guy who just wouldn't like this, which really sucked because he'd _really_ wanted to do this and feel what Arthur had obviously liked, but maybe that was just—

"Holy mother fucking Lady!" It felt like his entire body had just come alive all at once, waves of _hellyessogood_ branching out from something deep inside his ass that Arthur had pressed when he crooked his fingers inwards. He had never felt something like that, ever, in his life. Sure, jerking off was nice, (sometimes it was _really_ nice) but it had never felt like that touch had. He could feel his legs shaking and he blinked his eyes open, gasping out again when Arthur pressed in again. "Fuck…fuckfuckfuck…that feels so good…"

_Good, it's meant to. _Alfred looked up and met Arthur's face; he'd expected him to be smug or something, and while he did look a little pleased with himself, mainly, he just looked happy that Alfred was happy. He dragged his fingers out about halfway before he pressed them in again, hitting that damn whatever-it-was and he let out a noise that was suspiciously close to a wail. Great, now everyone on the ship was going to know exactly what they were doing (…whatever, let's face it, they already knew and Alfred hoped that heard, especially that dick Sadiq—try and deal with this blaspheming, asswipe), but he couldn't seem to stop. It had felt amazing with the pressing and the brushing; it felt fucking unreal when Arthur thrust into that spot, like he could actually explode into a puddle of boneless mush if he kept pressing right there.

"Ar-Arthur I—you gotta do something I'm—shit, don't just stop though!" He pushed up to his elbows as Arthur drew his fingers out, a hot glare ready on his face. He was never allowed to stop touching him like that, never, ever again. Arthur smirked at him and wiggled three fingers in his face and Alfred felt a dark, hot lick of want bubble up under his skin. Gods, he wanted three fingers, he wanted those more than he could remember wanting anything else before (except maybe Arthur and Arthur's dick, but he kind of got those with the fingers so it all worked out).

_If you really want to bottom tonight, you're going to need more stretching than two fingers. _

Alfred nodded dumbly, jaw slack and jerking his eyes up when he felt Arthur press in all three slick fingers at once. Gods, it burned, but it burned so good; his arms gave back out and he fell back to the bed with a slight _oomph_. The stretch and slide of Arthur's fingers, the way the kept rubbing against his walls, every single fucking press up against that spot—he felt like he was going to come. Which was weird because his poor dick had been kind of neglected this whole time and—

"Oh _fucking hell_, Arthur!"

Arthur chose that particular moment to lean down and take the head of his cock straight into his mouth—Alfred was going to die. He was going to actually die from the most awesome sex on the record of ever (seriously, holy hells) and he didn't even care because he never wanted Arthur to stop and—and—and then it was swelling up and out of him and the next thing he knew, he was blinking up at the ceiling, feeling like he could float away. He felt shaky and limp, like all the energy had been sapped right out of him; he couldn't remember ever feeling so good before in his life. He angled his head down and caught sight of Arthur staring at him with wide eyes—Alfred's eyes zeroed in on the little bit of something shining wetly on the corner of his mouth.

Well, if that wasn't the sexiest thing ever (in a weird, should-be-gross kind of way); Alfred felt a jolt of heat run through him and before he really was aware of what he was doing, he was pushing his entire body up with one arm and wrapping the other around Arthur as he kissed him hard. He could actually taste himself on Arthur's tongue and that was just—for once, 'awesome' didn't quite seem to cover how amazing that was. Alfred felt the vibrations of Arthur's moan on his lips and he pressed them tighter together; without thinking, he pulled all of Arthur's weight onto his torso and flipped them over on the bed so he was pressing Arthur down, crowding him so that he could feel every dip and press of Arthur against his skin.

_You're…you're strength, Alfred…oh gods…don't stop, never stop touching me…_

Arthur mumbled those words (which Alfred admitted he didn't really pay one bit of attention to) out between heated kisses and Alfred was happy for once that he could hear them in his head; that meant they could keep kissing and Alfred never wanted to stop. He rocked his hips down, hard, into Arthur's and even though he'd just came, pressing up against Arthur's dick, still very hard and wanting, sent little tremors up his spine. He continued rocking down, hard and faster, wrapping his free arm around Arthur's waist so he could yank him up closer, until he felt Arthur tense and his head arched back as he shook through his orgasm (…orgasm sounded like such a weird word…). Alfred leaned forward and pressed open mouthed kisses into the taut muscles of Arthur's neck until he started to go slack, shaky fingers reaching up to hold onto Alfred's shoulders as he lowered him down to the bed. Alfred pressed a kiss on Arthur's mouth before he rolled off, collapsing next to him on the bed with a big, blissed out smile, relishing in the just-enough burn in his thighs and ass.

That had been…fantastic. Awesome. Any other cool word he could come up for great.

A part of him was a little upset that they hadn't actually, you know, done _it_, but if that was any indication of what he had to look forward to, he was a-okay with doing other stuff first. More than okay. Super-duper okay, in fact. He reached over and pulled Arthur over so that he was sort of draped across his chest; he hummed in happiness and cuddled his face into Arthur's messy hair. "That was—that was awesome, Arthur. Like really, really awesome. I mean, I'm kinda sorry I didn't last all that long and we didn't actually have sex but—"

_What do you mean we didn't have sex? What the bloody hell do you call what we just did?_

Alfred smiled; Arthur's words sounded mumbly and tired, even in his head. "Well, I mean, you didn't like, you know, with your dick or—anything. Just your fingers and, Gods Arthur, and your mouth—and I just sort of rubbed you."

Arthur shook a little against Alfred; he was laughing again and his eyes were bright when he looked up and met Alfred's. _Alfred, you idiot. Sex is more than just penetrative sex. I can assure you, what we just did, was sex and was highly satisfactory for me. I'd ask if it was for you, but I'm fairly confident your banshee wail is all the answer I need. And the rest of the crew at that. _

Alfred blushed and felt his smile grow a bit shyer. He felt kind of stupid know but—somehow, Arthur, even when he was insulting him, never managed to make him feel bad about having stupid moments. "Yeah it was—I mean, I've never felt likethat before. What the hell were you even touching in there?"

Arthur ducked his head back down and rested it against Alfred's sternum. _Your prostate. I'm beginning to think your education is a bit lacking due to your gallivanting across the world._

"Well, good thing I have a new, sexy teacher then, huh?"

_You're impossible. _

Alfred didn't say anything at first, but then, just to be sure, "So you really okay that you didn't get to top?"

_I can completely assure you that I am perfectly happy with what we did. To be honest, Alfred, I doubted we'd do that tonight as it was—it's not something you just jump into if you've never really paid much attention to touching yourself there before. _Alfred blushed again, but Arthur just kissed the skin above his heart softly and cuddled closer. _We have plenty of time, love. We'll get there._

Alfred grinned and closed his eyes, sinking down deep into the bed, sleep, and Arthur, let himself forget that he'd have to keep his hands to himself once they reached Zion. He was right after all—it was a long trip across the Medii. They'd definitely be making the most of it.

TBC…

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

I've had a few folks ask me about countries and world details and wanted to let you all know there is a resource page for this on my livejournal: https : www . osco-blue-fairy . livejournal . com (remove the spaces). It's under the tag Resource Post and it's near the top of my feed. Feel free to post questions there too, there's a FAQ section as well :)

*Sesel – Creole for Seychelles

*Anatolia - From Greek, this refers to the ancient region which would become modern day Turkey

*Rhys - Wales


	21. Chapter 21

Title : Of Silence and Thievery (21/34)  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others (Seychelles/France, Spain/Romano, Prussia/Hungary/Austria, etc)  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.

Note: There are important notes at the end of this chapter.

_******USUKUSUKUSUK**_

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter Twenty-One: Where Sadiq Shows he Does Have a Heart and Matthew Learns_

Arthur had always assumed that long sailing trips (or ground travel trips…he wasn't picky) would be monotonous and boring. He'd had a whole collection of books in his store that were devoted to traveling, and every now and then, when his family was being especially boorish and he was more than a little worried someone saw him do something that'd given away his Voice, he'd daydream about leaving Britannia and traveling all over Avrupa. He had never sailed prior to Ivan's attack and joining the _Evangeline_, but he'd always imagined that the actual 'travel' part of traveling (like being stuck on a ship for weeks at a time or travelling slowly on horseback for days on end) was a necessary evil to see the wonders and sights of the world outside of his homeland. He'd seen enough weary and relieved sailors come into Berth after months of sailing to support this kind of thinking—but he had been very wrong.

Maybe it was just because the _Evangeline_ had a different sort of mission, or maybe it was just because Seychelles was a slave driver of a captain, but boring and monotonous were the last two words Arthur would've chosen to describe the days following their departure from Vindobona. The crew was in near constant motion from sun up to sun down each day, those who were going ashore preparing for what the Byzantium would throw at them and those who were staying with the ship going over the different procedures and safeguards they'd need to take to not arouse anger from the locals and keep the ship up to shape. And Arthur was not the exception.

If he wasn't going over different customs to expect in Byzantium with Sadiq, or helping Kiku organize different packs and provisions they'd need for the journey to Zion and what they'd need to get once they arrived, he was pouring over navigation charts and maps of every outlying country they'd need to travel through to get to Ruthenia and Ivan. They needed to know which paths and roads would be best to travel and not risk detection after they had to branch off from the main road Esther called the Old Path. While many had reservations about his skills before, after the hide-out was found, Arthur knew they were all counting on him to navigate them on land. Him, Esther, and Sadiq—it was up to them to get everyone through the Byzantium safely without alerting Ivan they were coming. Arthur would've felt pressure at the thought of the responsibility, if the thought of what awaited them after they found Ivan wasn't weighing so heavily on his mind.

Arthur didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it didn't seem like anyone really had any sort of plan on what they needed to do once they found Ivan and his lackeys. Besides hit them of course (and thank you Gilbert for that gem of a plan). But as far as actually stopping whatever Ivan was trying to do with the large amount of Talents and youth he kept stealing, or for that record, figuring out _how_ to actually return all of the Talents he'd stolen to their rightful owners, everyone was somewhat mum on the subject. Alfred included. Arthur had assumed when he joined that someone at least had some sort of idea on how to do this—but he was coming to think he was just as mistaken about that idea as he had been about traveling long distances. And that, more than anything, made him nervous and dread spark down his spine. The only thing more foolish than storming an extremely powerful, deranged man in a fortress he'd carved out of a mountain was doing so without any sort of plan.

He wasn't exactly sure on how to voice his concerns though, not when everyone but him seemed to think that was a mere technicality and brushed it off they few times he'd even come close to broaching the subject. Even Kiku had been less concerned than Arthur would have expected.

"Magic works in unusual ways, Arthur-san," he'd said. "I am sure it will work to intervene in our behalf if we need it too."

Arthur had refrained from mentioning that it hadn't been magic that had taken all of their Talents, and children's youths, in the first place. Especially since it had been Kiku who'd expounded on the difference between magic wielders and those with Talents—it was confusing (and suspicious) that he was brushing aside the difference so casually. Arthur hadn't mentioned his worries after that, but that didn't mean he stopped having them.

"Hey." Arthur blinked and glanced up from where the dark splash of the waves had lulled his mind into its contemplative mood. Alfred was grinning at him, softly, and slipping his arms around his waist before Arthur could move away. Not that he would have moved away—Arthur hoped Alfred realized that by now. "Where'd you go?"

Arthur cocked his head to the side in silent question.

"You were like a million miles away, thinking and stuff." Sometimes, Alfred surprised Arthur with how observant he could be when he wanted to (not that it happened often). "What were you thinking about?"

Arthur shook his head and hoped his smile looked convincing enough. _Nothing. Just going over things._

"Yeah right. You had your worried face on."

Arthur rolled his eyes. _I do not have a 'worried' face._

"Oh, you so do." Alfred leaned forward and kissed Arthur's cheek gently before he pulled him in closer. "Don't worry, it's kind of cute. Like how a pup looks when you steal his chew toy."

There was a new closeness between Alfred and him after that first night Sadiq had started 'training' them for the Byzantium. It hadn't exactly been missing before, but hadn't been what it was now. Arthur's not entirely surprised by it; Alfred had likely never opened himself up or been that vulnerable with anyone before Arthur. There's a certain level of trust that comes about after experiencing something like that for the first time, and Arthur's positive this is Alfred's first time experiencing that trust. It also probably helps that they both know they're freedom with each other was limited once they reached Zion—the knowledge that soon they'd have to watch every look or touch they shared made each one feel warmer and brighter now. Arthur had only been in love once, and it was ill-fated from the start (he'd been fifteen and he'd been head over heels for a local huntsman who had very large arms…and a very small brain), but what he'd felt then paled in comparison to what he felt now.

Yet another reason why traveling was not boring—any spare time he did manage to find was promptly swept away by Alfred and getting as close to each other as physically possible until the night came and they didn't need to worry about 'offending' Sadiq (or getting yelled at by Seychelles for 'shirking duties').

"Annnnnd you're gone again. You sure you're okay, Iggy?" Arthur forced his mind away from straying too deep again and tilted his head up to press a soft, conciliatory kiss to Alfred's chin.

_Just tired._

Alfred frowned but didn't press any further. "Well, I have to check with Seychelles and see if we've got any whetting stones before we leave the coastline, but wanna meet me in the room after? I can grab something from Kiku if you've got a headache or anything."

Arthur smiled, genuinely, and shook his head. _No to the herbs, but yes to the room._

Alfred smiled wide and kissed him once before hurrying off—he was so _eager_ sometimes. He ran a hand through his hair and turned to head back towards their cabin (gods, 'their' was starting to sound less and less terrifying which was a brand of its own terrifying), but stopped short when he saw Sadiq lounging on a barrel, coal-black eyes fixed on him. He felt a flush of irrational embarrassment mixed with a good amount of annoyance at the man and he lifted his chin just a bit in challenge. Large sword or no, he was sick of having to tip-toe around him at every turn, just in case something he did offended him. Soon he was going to have to deal with that enough as it was, he was _not_ going to start early. If he wanted to kiss Alfred on the deck of the ship, he damn well was going to.

Sadiq, to his credit, did not get angry or rise from his position at the challenge. He snorted and smirked a little meanly, but that was it (that actually may have been more insulting than saying anything…Arthur admitted it had a little bit to do with his abundance of manly pride). He wished he hadn't left the tablet and quill in the cabin, but he could make do without it; he gestured at Sadiq in a manner that clearly said 'well, out with it then, you clearly have something insulting and offensive to say to me.'

Sadiq was much better at reading his gestures than most others on the ship, so he got the gist of most of that. "You have more fire in you than I think most give you credit for, Kirkland."

Arthur blinked; that had not been what he expected as a response from the large man. Sardonic, yes. Rude, absolutely. But almost complimentary? No, that had not been what Arthur would've guessed at all. He gestured again, this time asking 'would you just say whatever it is you need to say to feel like you're doing your moral duty in informing me that I'm doomed for whatever pits of damnation your gods say I am?' He wasn't as confident that question made it across as clearly as the first one, but it would have to do; there was only so much Arthur could do with his hands (and no, his mind absolutely did not take a nose dive into the gutter after thinking that).

"I know it must be difficult, what you are doing here, and I'm sure my presence does little to make you, and others in your crew, comfortable, but you must understand that just as you are entitled to your beliefs, I am entitled to mine." Arthur would have rolled his eyes at the words, if Sadiq hadn't had said them almost kindly. "For what it is worth, I do admire your courage in hunting a man who kills children for sport, especially when said man is clearly hunting you just as eagerly."

Arthur's brows furrowed a little and he shook his head. Ivan hadn't shown any interest in him in months, not since the Nords—those were not the actions have a man hunting something. Well, there had been that incident in Spandow where Alfred revealed that Ivan had spied on them, and Alfred had been irrationally concerned that Ivan would attack Arthur there but—nothing had happened. Sadiq picked up the silent denial and he gave a harsh, booming laugh that did little to comfort.

"Let me tell you a story, Kirkland. When I was a boy, my father would take my younger cousin and I out hunting for a small animal called a mongoose that lived in the wild surrounding our home. Not because we were hungry or because he wished for us to be hunters, but to teach us how to be swift and clever, just as the mongoose is. He showed us many different ways to track the animal, to recognize their dens and their water sources, showed us how they fearlessly and cunningly took down snakes and outsmarted predators that would hunt them. And then he taught us that the best way to catch the mongoose was to be patient, to watch and observe its habits, what side it favors when it moves, which direction it will head if startled—and after we had learned all we could, then he would have us hunt. And you know what? We caught the mongoose nearly every time."

Arthur did not have to read between the lines of Sadiq's story to understand what he was getting at. "That man, for as mad as he is, is just as equally clever. You would be wise not to confuse his quiet for disinterest."

He settled back a little into the barrel and Arthur could feel his stare as he nodded at the rigging off to the side. He hadn't considered that angle before—it seemed stupid of him now. He met Sadiq's eyes again and pointed at him with raised eyebrows. Had he ever underestimated Ivan Braginski…thought of him as only a madman and paid for it?

No one really knew why Sadiq was hunting Ivan, no one except maybe Feliks, but it wasn't as if he was around to shed light on the subject. Sadiq did not have a Talent, in fact, he was quite proud about boasting that his strength and agility were his own, something he'd earned. If he had family who had been attacked, he didn't speak about it, but something in how he told that story, in how his eyes went dark as he warned Arthur—it spoke of personal experience. Based on how he'd spoken to Natalia and was so willing to kill her back in Spandow, Arthur had little doubt whatever Ivan had done to Sadiq had been something perhaps worse than anything done to the rest of them.

Sadiq met his stare, unblinkingly, until his eyes were nothing but hard, reflections of black in the lantern light. He stood up and Arthur fought not to step back as the large man stepped close to him. "You want to know why I'm here. Kirkland, is that it? How I know that man is still hunting you like a mongoose in the woods?"

Arthur tilted his chin up, set his jaw, and nodded curtly.

"I know these things and hunt with you even though I believe you lot are little more than hedonistic infidels because Ivan Braginski stole my cousin's life until he was nothing but a withered husk while I was forced to watch. And do you know why he forced me to watch little Cyrus* die? Because I insulted him and he could."

Sadiq didn't stomp away, his rage and grief were too painful and deep for that, but he did leave Arthur alone on the deck, wishing he'd just ignored the man and his sneer and gone down to the cabin and wait for Alfred (who was probably there by now and waiting for him). Now he had even more worries to add to his collection—wonderful. He looked up and watched the stars blink for a while before he turned and headed inside.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Matthew was growing to hate the cold.

When he'd been younger, he used to look forward to the cooler weather that winter always brought in Merica. It was usually so warm year round that the cold was always a welcome change when it came. Matthew liked wearing the sweaters his mother used to make and he liked how the brisk wind made his nose and ears red with cold. Sometimes, they even got snow in the low valley where they lived and he loved that even more—there was always something so pure about snowfall when he'd been young. He and Alfred used to take long slabs of tree bark from the huge redwoods that were everywhere in the woods surrounding their valley and slide down the small snow banks until they were both drenched to the bone and had to be dragged inside.

But now, now all the cold meant was the bitter draft that escaped into his stone cell every night and his fingers being blue at their tips, not quite frostbitten (because Ivan wouldn't allow that) but close enough that they felt it. It meant captivity and hunger; Matthew couldn't stand that he was growing to hate something he once loved. The cold mountain wind drifted into his cell again and he shivered, pulling the threadbare blanket he had tighter around his shoulders. He wasn't going to get much sleep tonight.

Matthew knew that the cold in his cell was all part of Ivan's 'method' of trying to get him to be more cooperative; Ivan had a lot of power at his fingertips, and what he couldn't do himself, he likely had someone here who could. His room had the capability of being warm, more comfortable, but Ivan wouldn't do anything to help Matthew without getting something in return. And, the Lady help him, he wasn't about to help Ivan any more than he was already being forced to; if his rebellion meant he could frustrate Ivan in some way, then it was worth a little discomfort (and by a little, he meant a lot).

He'd been captured for just a little short of two months and while he wasn't so much convinced Ivan was plotting to kill him anymore, he was supremely unsettled at not knowing why the hell the man had captured him in the first place. Eduard and Toris had swapped different theories under the breaths at the different work sites they were assigned to, but none of them seemed to stick long enough to really be considered a possibility. Oh Matthew knew it had to do with Alfred and this Arthur person, but he didn't know why it involved _him_. Or now that Ivan had him, what his part in the scheme was—it was infuriating, being kept in the dark and feeling even more helpless than he already felt. He tossed on his small cot and tried to close his eyes; he could already feel the tell-tale tightening of his chest and throat and he'd made a promise to himself to not wallow anymore.

He was fairly certain Ivan was keeping any eye on him in the cell anyway and Matthew wasn't about to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing just how much being isolated and held captive was starting to get to him.

Before he really knew it, the sun was starting to peek into his cell and Matthew blinked at it tiredly. He felt exhausted (a full night of tossing and turning will do that to you), but he knew that Natalia would be by any moment to lead him and the others to the work yard. The deranged woman scared him more than Ivan did, so he pushed himself out of bed and started to pull on the pathetic excuses for 'warm' clothing he had. Once dressed, he tried to comb back his hair with his fingers so it was a tad neater and then picked up his glasses to slip them on. One lens looked permanently dirty and the other had a rather noticeable crack to the side—he was sure he looked like some kind of homeless vagrant. He grinned a little deprecatingly as he stood beside the door and waited for Natalia to appear; he supposed he kind of was a homeless vagrant here anyway.

He heard footsteps echo in the stone hallway outside his cell, but instead of hearing the usual shuffle of all the other captives, Matthew only heard one set. He blinked and stepped back from the door as whoever it was arrived and opened it with a loud groan. A tall, olive skinned man was waiting for him on the other side and Matthew recognized him as one of Ivan's followers, one of the people there who truly believed that Ivan was trying to save the world, or whatever the whole 'Vision' thing was about. He wasn't fanatical like Natalia, but he wasn't exactly like Oksana either; Matthew knew there would only be one reason why this man came to pick him up at his cell this morning.

"Brother Ivan wishes to speak to you." Yep, there it was. Matthew met the man's stare and followed his arm as it stretched out in invitation; Matthew nodded and stepped out of the cell. He didn't move outside of the man's reach, because he knew if he did that would only mean that he would snatch him back and then be herded to meet Ivan. Matthew recognized the man's offer to walk freely for what it was; Matthew wasn't about to waste it.

They made their way through the winding corridors of the mountain, and Matthew tried to note landmarks or different rock formations when they passed them (escape wasn't likely, but if it did happen he wasn't going to be useless). The man was silent beside him, but Matthew wouldn't have known what to say even if he did strike up conversation. There really wasn't a delicate way to phrase 'so you follow a homicidal maniac, what's it like to be so brainwashed?' Not if Matthew wanted to keep his nose and jaw unbroken; silence was the best option. They continued walking through the corridors, and then the man turned sharply down a narrow, sloped pathway that led deeper into the mountain; Matthew had never been to this area of the compound before and he felt a thrill of nervousness as he realized this was probably where Ivan lived. He did not want to know why he was being summoned to Ivan's personal quarters early in the morning.

The man paused outside of a pair of large, wood doors and knocked three times; Matthew heard the soft, deep voice answer positively within and then the door was opening. The man took gentle hold of his arm and led him inside. The quarters were not lavishly decorated, but were much more furnished than other areas in the compound he'd seen; Ivan was sitting in the middle of it at a desk that was covered with books, glass vials, and all different sorts of things Matthew would expect to find in an apothecary shop. Ivan glanced up and smiled kindly at him before turning to the man.

"Thank you, Kartlos*. Leave us." The man nodded and exited without question, leaving Matthew alone; he took a deep breath and turned back to meet Ivan's gaze, his hands balling into tight fists at his side to conceal their shaking. Ivan did not stand up, but continued to stare at Matthew from his desk, fingers steeped in front of his mouth and too bright eyes boring into him from across the room. Matthew didn't move and continued to meet Ivan's eyes with as much defiance as he could muster…however little that actually ended up being.

Ivan's smile deepened and he sat back a little in his chair. "You are very much like your brother. He would not have yielded if he was in your place either—such an interesting similarity you share."

"Did you bring me here to talk about my brother?" Matthew was proud of the way his voice stayed steady; his fists clenched together tight enough for his ragged nails to bite into his skin.

"No, I brought you here to discuss why you insist on refusing every attempt at hospitality I offer. And why you continue to toss aside precious stones over the cliff edge, which forces me to punish you. I do not like to cause suffering, Matthew, no matter what you think." The frightening thing was that Matthew believed that Ivan truly thought that was true. Truly believed he only caused suffering because he had to—Matthew might have pitied him if he didn't hate him.

"I want nothing to do with your cause or your hospitality. I am here because you're keeping me here, but don't expect me to join your followers just because I'm cold or uncomfortable."

Ivan stayed quiet for a few moments before he finally stood up from his seat, circling around the desk and walking past Matthew as he headed towards some potted plants on a nearby windowsill. The flowers were dying in their pots and looked like sunflowers; they grew like weeds in the grain fields in Merica. "Tell me, Matthew, who are you more angry with? Myself for taking you from your home, or your brother for not finding you?"

Matthew grit his teeth and closed his eyes. "I'm not looking to be rescued."

"Is that right? Then why do you continue to resist my help?" Matthew couldn't tell if Ivan was mocking him or was truly wondering why. Matthew glanced over and watched Ivan as he pruned the dying leaves off the stalk of the sunflower, as if that would help the flower stay alive a bit longer. Matthew watched as Ivan's hands glowed green for a moment and he felt a wave of hot, burning anger as he realized Ivan was using Elizaveta's Talent. The plant brightened after the power washed over it and Ivan glanced back to meet Matthew's gaze. "Your friend's Talent is quite useful, but not permanent—it keeps the plant alive when it normally would die but it does not prevent the rot and disease that will follow as long as I plant the seeds within Ruthenia's soil."

Ivan brushed dirt of his hands and turned to face Matthew head on. "You have not answered my question."

Matthew took a deep breath. "Just because I don't expect to be rescued doesn't mean I suddenly agree with what you're doing here, with your plans."

"Ah, but Matthew, you don't know of my plans, only my methods." Ivan smiled playfully back at him and it made him look years younger. "If you knew what I was trying to do, what I am trying to achieve, you would not be so quick to sneer at them."

"Then-then tell me what they are. You've got me trapped here and my brother may not know for months and—maybe if I knew what you're trying to do I'd consider helping you." It was a long shot, Matthew knew, but he had to try. He didn't care if Ivan was trying to end all conflict and war, he would never agree to help because of how he was going about it—but Ivan didn't know him that well and might not know that. Even though he had Matthew's stolen empathy, Matthew knew how to mask his feelings and prevent Ivan from reading him with his Talent. Matthew knew its abilities and limitations better than Ivan did, and now that he knew he employed it on a regular basis, he wasn't about to get caught unawares as he had before.

Ivan smiled indulgently and shook his head. "No, I don't think I will, not yet."

The knock sounded at the door and Matthew whirled around to see the man, Kartlos, enter again, deferring respectfully to Ivan before turning to Matthew. His time was up, it seemed; back to work. Matthew faced Ivan as Kartlos came towards him, eyes hard and blood starting to well up in his palm from where his nails broke the skin. "You told me when I first got here that you needed Alfred, that he was necessary—do you really think he's going to give two shits about 'helping' you whenever he does find out I'm gone? He's not stupid; he'll know I wouldn't want him to side with you just to help me, that this is just a trap."

Matthew hadn't spoken so hotly to Ivan since that first night he came to him in the cell, when Ivan had nearly strangled him against the wall in a show of rare anger; he almost expected it to happen again, but it didn't. Instead Ivan only smiled and Kartlos grabbed at his arm, yanking him out of the room. Ivan called out to him before they exited though, his calm smile burning cold in Matthew's veins. "You would be surprised what people can do to help those they love, comrade. Or what they can lose track of, what they forget—and I think you'll find he will discover you're missing much sooner than a few months' time. News travels fast."

And, with that, he was tugged out the door and could only watch it shut with a final groan.

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

Later, Arthur would look back on That Night and wonder how everything went to hell so fast (and yes, the capitalization was well deserved).

They had just made their final port stop before heading out into the deep sea of the Medii and, for all intents and purposes, it had been a rather normal day. Arthur had spent a good part of the morning going over some navigation charts with Seychelles and Vash, going over what passageways were safest throughout the Medii and which were fastest. Then, he'd spent a good part of the afternoon practicing with Kiku, trying to get his Voice to do anything useful (thus far, he was starting to think his Voice was not working out of spite after being ignored all those years) and had then gone up to listen to Sadiq drone on about how important it was to show respect to certain elders. He'd sat with Alfred for the majority of that lesson, but tried not to act too blatantly 'sinful,' in the wake of the personal history he'd learned about Sadiq the prior week. After that, dinner, and Arthur had been looking forward to retiring to the cabin with Alfred a little later.

Then, Nikolai had showed up, and everything went to shit.

TBC...

**USUKUSUKUSUK**

*Cyrus-Cyprus, or Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus

*Kartlos-Georgia

Ok, I've got some important notes for you guys. First off, I am happy to report that I should be done with this story by the end of the year! Posting schedule may go into 2013, but I should had the story actually all written by then.

Second: I have a resource post on my LJ for this story, which includes a character reference and a map/guide/FAQ. Since FFN took away the homepage thing and doesn't like links, use this and just remove the spaces. It will take you to the map and a link to the character reference is at the bottom. I also have a fanart post there, so check that out!

osco-blue-fairy . livejournal dot com / 46049 . html

And Third, I have been tossing around the idea of getting a tumblr. It would mostly be for writing and fandom spazzing, but I'm trying to get a feel if this is something you all would like or not. So, if it is, let me know!

Osco out!

P.S. Reviews would be lovely.


	22. Chapter 22

Title : Of Silence and Thievery  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others (Seychelles/France, Spain/Romano, Prussia/Hungary/Austria, etc)  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.  
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_******USUKUSUKUSUK**_

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter Twenty-Two: Where Shit Hits the Proverbial Fan_

"Alfred. Can you stop making goo-goo eyes at Arthur for all of two minutes and actually listen to what I'm asking?" Alfred blinked and smiled winningly up at Seychelles. He didn't remove his arm from where it was comfortably draped over Arthur's shoulders, not even when Arthur turned red and tried to scoot away (he got embarrassed over the silliest things, seriously).

"Sorry, what do you need?"

Seychelles brushed some hair out of her face and fixed her eye at him. "I want you to come here for a moment and look at something with me. I can't quite make out what it is, but it looks like it could be a sea-beast."

Alfred untangled himself from Arthur and took the spyglass Seychelles was holding out to him, turning around and looking where Seychelles pointed. It took him a few minutes to find what she meant, but eventually he spotted the tell-tale white surf against the dark ocean. "Well, it looks like a wave, but this far out, and as big as the swell looks, you're probably right. What do you think? A whale?"

Seychelles made a noncommittal sound and Alfred tried to focus the spyglass a little further. "It's the right size, but whales generally don't come near ships, and I think the Medii is still a little too shallow for them this close to the coastline. Plus, doesn't it look like it's coming straight for us?"

Alfred looked through the glass again and was surprised to see the whatever-it-was had gotten closer to them; it did look like it was heading towards them. He hummed in agreement and shared a look with Seychelles, her eye narrowing out over the ocean for a moment before she turned around and started shouting out instructions to the crew. Battles instructions—those were something he hadn't heard in a while, not since Arthur had joined them. Arthur stood up and Alfred grinned at him encouragingly; this was Arthur's first potential sea battle, naturally he was probably a little nervous. "Don't worry, Artie, it's probably just a shark or something; sometimes the bigger ones charge ships. It doesn't look big enough to be a kraken or sea dragon."

Arthur shook his head and grabbed the spyglass out of Alfred's hands, looking through it with a focused, unruffled look on his face that kind of annoyed Alfred (and not because Alfred had been scared shitless his first sea battle and Arthur apparently couldn't care less…of course not). Arthur's brows furrowed as he focused further, and then he was shoving it back into Alfred's hands and shaking his head as he gestured out to the charging thing wildly. There, panicking Arthur, that was a lot better.

"Aw, now don't get all worked up, I'm sure whatever it is looks awful, but we've definitely handled stuff like this before and—"

_No, you idiot, not that. It's not a sea beast!_

It was Alfred's turn to look confused and he brought the spyglass back up to look at that thingymabob again, ignoring as two of the crew members ran past the pair of them, jostling them enough that Arthur nearly lost his footing. "What do you mean it's not a sea monster? What the hell else would charge a ship from under the water? I don't see anything, just a swell of waves and a blond…a blond head?! 'Chelles! 'Chelles, I think that thing is a person!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and started to mouth the expected 'I told you so,' but the ship rocked to the left and a huge spout of ocean water erupted from the starboard side. Arthur lost his footing and Alfred nearly fell over reaching to grab him before he hit the deck (falling on wet wood did NOT feel good and almost always broke bones as Alfred had learned a few times over); other surprised cries and grunts echoed over the ship as Seychelles took the helm and steadied the_ Evangeline_ out. Alfred steadied himself and Arthur, then gave him a quick once over to make sure he didn't bump anything.

"You all right?"

Arthur nodded, his eyes fixed at something over his shoulder; Alfred narrowed his eyes at him and made to ask what he was zoning out over (and could he show a little more appreciation for Alfred's heroics, jeez), when Arthur took hold of his shoulder and bodily turned him around. Oh—well, that explained why Arthur looked so baffled and surprised. It was Nikolai.

Alfred was surprised to see Nikolai standing on the ship's deck, dripping wet, and a very long ways from home. The Nordsman didn't explain what the hell he was doing here after a few minutes of punctuated silence, or why he'd basically torpedoed himself at their ship, but to his credit, he didn't look like he could very much more than just stand there without falling over. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Seychelles handed off the helm to one of her crewmen and hurried down to Nikolai, her braid flying behind her as she went. Alfred took that as his cue to head over as well, and like that, everyone seemed to converge on the man.

"Nikolai, what the hell are you doing here?" Gilbert.

"Has Ivan attacked you again, are the rest of you all right?" Vash.

"How long have you been following us?" Esther.

"Guys, give the guy a minute, he looks like he's about to collapse." Alfred gave everyone a look before focusing on Nikolai with curious concern. He wanted to know the answers to all those questions too, but he could be patient and wait for the guy to catch his breath (really, he could). Kiku appeared with what looked like a bowl of soup and some water and handed it to Nikolai, who took it and gulped them both down with awe-inspiring speed. Alfred felt Arthur come up beside him and he handed Alfred a towel; he took it and flashed him a grateful grin before he handed the towel to Nikolai.

The Nordsman looked more aware as he traded out the food and water dishes for the towel and gave an unspecific nod of thanks as he wiped the towel over his face and through his hair. Then, he took a deep breath and held out a hand, drawing all the rest of the water clinging to his body and clothes out until it rested in a whirling globe in his palm; he flung the globe over the side and Alfred couldn't help but think what freaking awesome Talents the Nords brothers all had. He still looked like shit, but more up to meet their questioning eyes with pale blue eyes that were steely with determination. He nodded again and handed back the towel (Rosa grabbed it and tossed it back in one, continuous motion, nearly hitting Sadiq in the face as she did so).

"Thank you."

"Of course, Nikolai, you looked about to drop dead to the deck." Seychelles kept her voice light and professional as she met Nikolai's eyes. "I think I speak for everyone, however, when I ask you what you're doing all the way in the Medii. Especially when you and your brothers have told us on several occasions you're responsibilities require you to stay in the Nords."

Nikolai nodded shortly. "And that remains true. However, the Balance takes a long view of things and if something comes up that requires one of us to leave the forest for an extended period of time, we can."

"What came up?" Vash again. "And why did you need to find us?"

Nikolai met Vash's stare for a moment too long, just long enough for grumbles to start up in everyone else before Seychelles shushed them quiet. Then, slowly, Nikolai turned towards Alfred, his face curiously remorseful (it made Alfred's stomach clench and grab a hold of Arthur's hand, to make sure he was still there). Braginski had done something, it had to be that, Alfred decided, and whatever it had been it was something serious enough to drive Nikolai halfway across Avrupa searching for them. Alfred hadn't forgotten how much Braginski wanted Arthur, wanted him like he had wanted Toris, even if most of the rest of the crew seemed to think he lost interest. He must have done something to Arthur's family, maybe friends of his—he mentioned he had a younger brother, maybe Braginski had—Alfred squeezed Arthur's hand tighter at the thought.

Maybe Arthur wasn't as close with his brothers as Alfred was with his, but he'd still be devastated if Braginski had killed one of them. All of them—who knew. Nikolai did, apparently.

"Tino and I have both been keeping closer tabs on the Balance of late—we've been hearing whispers and ghosts that something's wrong, and recently, they've been circling around Ivan Braginski."

"So you travelled hundreds of miles to tell us that Ivan is messing with some serious shit? I think we could've figured that out with a letter, man." Gilbert crossed his arms across his chest and stared at Nikolai with distrust. "That's not why you came all the way out here."

Nikolai shook his head but didn't look upset by the suspicion being shot his way. "Obviously not, but to understand the how, you must first listen to the why."

"Ok, so you and Tino were looking into what Ivan was doing then," Seychelles interjected. She shot Gilbert a stern look; he rolled his eyes but focused back on Nikolai's lips so he could follow what he was saying. "Something happened then, right?"

"Yes." Nikolai turned back and met Alfred's eyes again, glancing over at Arthur for a brief moment before coming back to him; this time, everyone seemed to pick up on it, not just Alfred. "Tino reached down into the earth and the Balance showed him a vision—in Merica."

Merica? Wait…what? Why would he…not Britannia? No, no it couldn't—

"Ivan had been there and when Tino tried to earth-call your brother, Alfred, he was met without a response. He looked closer and saw your home had been destroyed, and the Balance whispered a lot of things he couldn't understand, but the one thing he did was that whatever Ivan was doing was connected to his perversion of the Balance. He took Matthew, Alfred."

There wasn't any noise on the ship, but Alfred had this horrible ringing in his ears, like he'd been too close to one of those gunpowder pistols Vash had going off, and his vision was off, like it wasn't focusing properly. Matthew was…he'd been safe. He was _safe_ in Merica now that Ivan had what he wanted so why was Nikolai telling him he was gone? It wasn't right, it didn't make sense—Tino had to have been wrong. "No, no he's—that's not right, Mattie's not a threat, Braginski wouldn't—you're wrong."

Alfred let go of Arthur's hand and clenched his fists tight at the horrible, pitying look he could see everyone giving him, even Nikolai looked a little bit upset and that guy never showed emotion. "Tino was not wrong, Alfred. I am sorry, but Matthew was—"

"Why the hell would he get taken?! Braginski already has his Talent, he doesn't take people he doesn't view as a threat!"

"Alfred—" Alfred turned to glare at Seychelles' pacifying tone, body thrumming together even tighter, coiling until he felt like he was one second away from screaming because his brother could not be taken, not after all this time, not after Alfred had been sure he was safe in Merica, he was safe on his own as Alfred scoured the world for Braginski. He met Alejandro's face, the large man folded in on himself and looking half of his considerable size, already admitting defeat that Matthew was gone; Alfred felt disgusted at the sight. This guy was supposed to care about Matthew and he was just giving up? Resigned that Matthew had become another Toris, even though there was no reason for Braginski to take him? Well fuck that. "Alfred, listen to me—"

Mattie couldn't be gone, Alfred couldn't have failed twice at protecting him; he wasn't that bad of an older brother.

"Alfred-san—"

He was supposed to be _safe_, that's what he'd told himself whenever he didn't pressure Mattie into joining the _Evangeline_.

"Fuck, man, Alfred, you're going to break your damn hand! Someone want to help me out here?! He's going to smash straight through the fucking beam!" Alfred felt other arms try to tug him away from the mast but he flung all of them off of him.

Braginski had…Alfred was going to kill him. If he had hurt his brother, if he took him and anything happened to Mattie, Alfred was going to kill that bastard. Matthew wasn't—

_Alfred. Love, you're going to break the mast if you punch through it._ A warm, newly calloused hand glided across his forearm and wrapped fingers around his fist, gently tugging it away from the splintered wood. Alfred blinked and looked over to meet Arthur's green eyes, brighter and closer than usual; he took Alfred's fist and slowly worked it open until he could wrap his fingers around Alfred's. Arthur kept his eyes focused on Alfred and he started to rub a thumb across the knuckles on his other fist in smooth, measured strokes; Alfred felt a little bit of guilt work its way into his heart amidst all the rage, hurt, and fear at wishing, even for just a tiny bit, that his initial thought had been true and Braginski had attacked _Arthur's_ brothers, not his own.

And then, it clicked, the reason why Braginski had taken Matthew. To get to Alfred, Alfred who had been defying him for years and had most recently stopped him (with some help) from taking Arthur in the Nords. So, he took Matthew instead—and Alfred, so caught up in Arthur and the whirlwind craziness of what he felt for the other man, had allowed it to happen. When was the last time he'd visited Matthew? Months…a year? Or written a letter, or sent a trinket or souvenir he thought his brother would like? When was the last time he could remember sitting down and actively missing his brother? Sure, he reminisced and told stories and always wished his brother was there but—but Alfred couldn't remember the last time he had really _missed_ his brother. Well, that was a lie, he could remember the last time.

Before they sprung Arthur from that prison in Britannia.

Before Arthur had joined them and wove himself so tightly within Alfred's life—he had trouble thinking about who he'd been or what he cared about, besides Mattie, before him. Before Arthur had kissed him, touched him, and made him feel like he'd found a part of himself he hadn't known existed, the only person he cared for on the same level was Matthew and now—now he was gone, captured, and Alfred had spent the better part of the last few months trying to feel up and get naked with Arthur has much as humanly possible on board a tight-quartered ship. More guilt built inside him; a horrible, sickening, self-hating guilt that felt like someone was squeezing all of his organs at once. Alfred had always thought he was a pretty cool guy but now, now he felt like the most self-centered, selfish, low-life on the planet, and he wouldn't be surprised if his brother hated him (and while that was a horrible thought, it was better than thinking what-ifs about Braginski killing him).

Arthur's hands made him feel even worse, like he wanted to puke or something but couldn't; he didn't deserve those hands or his kindness, or anything. He tugged himself away and turned back towards Nikolai. "How long have you been trailing us? How long has he—?"

"Close to two moons ago, that was when Tino first felt the whispers regarding your brother." Two...two months. His brother had been captured and had been a prisoner of that bastard for two months? He really was going to be sick; that or break something. "I wish the news I had to bring was better, but if it's any comfort, I do not believe your brother is dead. Ivan may be mad, but if he had wanted to kill your brother, he would have done so and not bothered with the secrecy. He would have already made it known. And now you know that your brother is where Ivan will be—hopefully this will mean you will exercise some restraint should you find Ivan."

Alejandro grunted, a horrible, wet and wounded sound, and then he was gone, stomping back inside the ship, undoubtedly towards his cabin to be alone; Alfred didn't blame him, he wanted to be alone too. Sure, they were heading towards Braginski's hide out and maybe they'd be able to find Matthew there but—who knew how long it would take them to get there, how long Matthew would be at the bastard's mercy. And now with Nikolai's warnings about not barging in there, weapons blazing…what if his brother got caught up in the crossfire? Just, just shit, it was all shit now.

"I—" Seychelles began. Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before trying again; her eyes were very bright. "Thank you, Nikolai, for bringing us this news. It is—it helps to be informed. Do you need to rest before you leave? We have food if you need any, and there's a spare cot in Vash's room."

Nikolai started responding, but the ringing was back in Alfred's ears and he needed to get away, couldn't stand being there with everyone mourning Matthew, even though Nikolai had just said he probably wasn't dead. That was good, right? At least his brother was still alive, trapped by that fucking monster, having who knows what happened to him. Oh yes, alive was _so_ much better. He let out a deep, guttural breath and followed Alejandro's lead, pushing off the multiple attempts at comfort or whatever everyone was offering him, trying to ignore the way Arthur's eyes followed him down in the ship's hull.

It was his entire fucking fault, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it, but he sure as hell wasn't going to break down in front of everyone else. The hero had to stay strong and all, even when they were broken.

_******USUKUSUKUSUK**_

Once Alfred had left the deck, noise seemed to explode all at once, as if everyone had been holding back for Alfred's and Alejandro's sakes. Seychelles rubbed at her temples and tried to push back the budding headache born from the sadness and grief she felt over Matthew's abduction—she cared for him just like she cared for Alfred. He was like a little brother in some ways, but she was a captain first and foremost. Her crew needed her to be centered and in control; she took a deep breath and then whistled sharply, the shrill noise drawing attention away from Nikolai (who still looked about ready to collapse) and she straightened her spine tall. Everyone's eyes, with the exception of Arthur's (but it wasn't like he would cause much of a ruckus so she didn't mind if his mind wandered off), swung to her and she met them with silence before striding forward. She clapped Nikolai on the shoulder bracingly, for which she got an unimpressed look from the man in exchange, before addressing her crew.

"Look, I know we're all worried about Matthew, or at least worried about why Ivan would show interest in him now after so much time," she nodded at Esther and Rosa at that part. "But we have a mission to do and we've been working for years toward it; we can't let him distract us now, not when we're so close and the only thing that will be keeping us from his spying will be Kiku's masking spell."

She turned and focused her gaze on Kiku, noting that he looked just as stricken as Arthur did. She hadn't thought he was very close to Matthew, but he and Alfred did get along so maybe he was just worried for Alfred. "We're still a go with that, right Kiku?"

He blinked and took a deep breath before he nodded and met Seychelles' eye. "Yes, Seychelles-sama. The spell will not block him completely, as that would only arouse suspicion from him, but it should keep our location vague and indeterminate. Given this most recent news…I think he will only view it as a preventative measure against his attacks."

She narrowed her eye. "You think he meant for us to know Matthew is gone? Even after all this time?"

Kiku nodded and his face started to calm again. "Yes, I think he did. Isn't it much worse now? Knowing that our friend has been missing for so long while we knew nothing of it?"

Seychelles had to admit, he had a very good point; just thinking of all the different celebrations they'd had since Matthew had been taken—it made her feel nauseous. "Good then, one less thing to stress about. Now, we're all worried, but if we're all still on track with our plan, I don't see why a rescue mission can't coincide. But we're not going to do anyone any good if we let Ivan wind us up like this, make us careless."

The crew was beginning to nod along with her words and she took a moment to relax a little. Gilbert still looked upset, but she could see his eyes hardening as the anger morphed into focus; Esther and Rosa were relaxing, now that the chance for an argument with anyone about changing the focus of their mission was waning. Vash looked upset, but like Gilbert, it was morphing into something she could use; Francis, who had been closest with Matthew after Seychelles (and Alfred of course), had stopped pacing the deck. Kiku looked nothing like he had before, all traces of fear, sadness, and guilt gone from his face. And Sadiq, well, he still looked angry, but Seychelles knew it wasn't from knowing Matthew, but rather because Ivan had taken someone else—he hated Ivan more than most on board did and there was no chance at redirecting that hatred. It worked for him though—and if it worked for him, then it worked for the crew as far as she was concerned.

Alejandro would need some time, but once she let him grieve, she would talk to him individually—she knew how much he cared about Matthew, had watched the surprising, but sweet, romance develop between the pair of them the last time they had visited Merica. Next to Alfred, he would be the hardest to keep from doing something stupid. And as for Alfred—she glanced up and stared at Arthur until he sensed the stare and met her gaze. She wasn't the person who would need to talk to Alfred. Besides, it would probably do Arthur some good. He was a clever man, he had probably already come to the same conclusion she had regarding Matthew's abduction and why Ivan took him.

Ivan hadn't been able to take Arthur, but Matthew, well; he was a whole other story. And they both were important to Alfred. Arthur set his jaw and gave her a small, brief nod before he headed down the deck and towards the cabins. She hoped that Arthur would be able to get through to Alfred, because as much as she cared for him she couldn't have Alfred getting reckless at this stage. Not when they were so close to actually doing something about Ivan instead of hopelessly chasing him down, always arriving just a smidgeon too late. She wondered for a moment if Ivan had counted on this, had counted on Matthew's abduction to deter them from their current mission—but he couldn't know they knew where he was. They had been so careful. She took a deep breath and pushed aside the urge to pinch her temples as she shouted out duties for her crew.

She was captain; the time to grieve, worry, and hypothesize about Ivan's intentions could come later.

_******USUKUSUKUSUK**_

Arthur had no clue what he was supposed to fucking say.

Really, what could you say to the man you'd inexplicably fallen for, at the most inconvenient of times, whose brother was kidnapped likely because _you_ couldn't be taken? 'Sorry to hear about your brother, Alfred old chap, but at least I'm still here?' Or, 'you've probably worked out that it's somewhat my fault your brother got taken by a life-stealing lunatic, but I'm really sorry about all of that…kisses?' Yes, he was sure either of those, along with the other equally horrible sounding alternatives in his head, would work fantastically—but, if anyone had to try and talk to Alfred it should be him. He knew that if Alfred was going to listen to anyone it would probably be him; he just wasn't sure of the reason why. Would he listen to him because he and Arthur shared a connection and he trusted him in a way that was different than anyone else on board? Or would it be just so he could rage all his hurt and frustration out on Arthur who, legitimately, couldn't blame him if he wanted to?

Arthur didn't know which one was worse.

He made his way down to the shared cabins he and Alfred had moved into, and while he was confident that Alfred couldn't hear him (silence had its benefits), he probably was expecting Arthur to come see him. He took a deep, fortifying breath and knocked at their door once he reached it; silence was his answer and Arthur pushed the unlocked door open. Alfred was sitting hunched over at the far side of the bed, his hands fisted and the knuckles red on top of the sheets; Arthur knew he probably wasn't, but Alfred looked like he was vibrating, as if what he was feeling was too much to stay contained in his skin and had to escape somehow. He stepped inside and shut the door as softly as he could, locking it behind him in case anyone from the crew (aka Gilbert) decided the solution to Alfred's problem was drinking and lots of it. Alfred had to have heard the door shut and lock, but he stayed motionless on the bed.

_Alfred._ He stayed still and didn't acknowledge Arthur's greeting, so Arthur stepped forward, slow and steady to give Alfred time to warn him off if he didn't want Arthur near him. He didn't sit down beside him; instead, he took up a spot in front of their porthole directly in front of him. He stood just as motionless as Alfred was for a spell before he tried again. _Alfred. Alfred, I know you can hear me. It's the drawback of this bloody pendant, you can't just shut me out unless you make me take the damn thing off. _

If Alfred truly did not want to talk to him, Arthur wanted him to know that he had the choice to take the pendant off, but Arthur wouldn't do it for him. Alfred still would not move and Arthur huffed silently and narrowed his eyes down at the crown of Alfred's head. _I'm taking you're inaction as a go ahead to keep talking, so you better well listen to me. Sitting in here, raging at yourself and Ivan, it isn't going to change what's happened. I know you must be terrified for your brother, but—_

"You know? You don't know anything about it. You don't even like your brothers, you told me that. You don't know anything."

Well, at least he was talking and not a catatonic zombie about to explode. Arthur would take what he could, even if it was looking like he and Alfred were barreling straight towards something awful. _Just because my relationship with my brothers is not what you have with yours does not mean you are suddenly the expert on what it feels like when someone you care about is in trouble or hurt and you're helpless to stop it!_

Alfred looked up at him then, his glasses off and blue eyes hard underneath the fringe of his blond hair; it was an intimidating look and one Arthur had seen, but had never had directed at him before. Arthur had never been one to back down from a fight before though, so he tilted his chin down and challenged him right back; Alfred glared and Arthur braced himself as the tall man got to his feet. "Oh and you're so all knowing, right? Ok, fine, then why don't you drum up some pretty words and tell me how I'm supposed to be ok with the fact that the psychopath kidnapped my little brother and is keeping him prisoner? Or, about how I'm supposed to deal with that he's been captured for months, having gods know what being done to him, and I've been busy drinking and celebrating and fu—"

Alfred cut himself off with a frustrated growl, tugging his hands roughly through his hair and nearly elbowing Arthur in the process (he'd gotten awful close during his outburst and Arthur was fairly certain there was spittle in his hair and tunic). Arthur had already heard it though, and a fresh well of hurt bubbled up past the guilt and worry he felt, even though he'd told himself this could happen and Alfred was just upset. It still hurt like a bitch to hear it out loud.

_And fucking, Alfred? Fucking me and getting fucked yourself? If you're going to say it like that, then you better well get used to the sound. _

Alfred glared at him and he was back in Arthur's space, forcing him to take a step back lest his feet get stomped on. "No, no you don't get to act all uppity right now! You don't get—you're just—just no! Matthew's gone and I should've fucking been there but instead I was here, with you, not even caring about what happened to him because all I could think about was you and how I felt about you and what the hell was going on in your head about me! And now he's gone and it's—it's my, your…it's all just shit and if I want to be fucking mad, then I can and fuck you if you're going to stand there and _judge_ me about it!"

Alfred was crowding Arthur and it felt too hot for how chilled his back was, nearly pressed against the porthole. Alfred's eyes were wet, dangerously so, and he really was shaking, looking feverish in his craze. And, even though Alfred's words pierced him in a way his brothers never managed too, similar to the way his father's had whenever he caught Arthur using his Voice without meaning too, he swallowed and pushed it down because Alfred needed him to stay in control, to help him. So, he reached up and tried not to wince when Alfred's hand caught his wrist to hard, likely bruising the bone with how tight he held him back.

_It's not your fault, Alfred. _

"Then whose is it? Yours?"

Arthur met Alfred's eyes and saw that Alfred wasn't throwing that blame around; he'd come to the same conclusion he and Seychelles (and likely the rest of the fucking crew, Ladies tits) already had. _Is that what you want me to say? That it's my fault he took your brother? Because I can tell you, you're not the only one thinking that. If me saying it will help you in some way then fine, yes, it's because of me. Ivan tried to take me and when he couldn't, he went after someone he knew you cared about, because I'm sure that had something to do with why he took your brother now instead of before. It all fits so nicely, like a present specifically wrapped up and gifted for you to rage at and I can't even blame you because it probably is true._

Alfred's eyes cleared just a little and he waved aside Arthur's words as if they only frustrated him more. "Don't be stupid, it's not like you told Braginski to do anything."

_And you did? I only call you an idiot to make sure you're ego doesn't take over the rest of you, but if you truly think that I'm not at blame but you somehow can be, then you're the biggest moron I've ever met! _

"He wasn't your brother! Matthew's my responsibility and he's always been since our folks died! It's not the same!"

_You're right, it's not the same—I've never even met the man, but I bet if he were here, he'd tell you to belt up and stop blaming yourself for what that deranged man decided to do! _Arthur looked down and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, wishing he had water or something nearby to help soothe away the rawness he felt building in his throat. When he looked back up, one silent throat clearing later, he saw that Alfred's eyes had gone wet and he looked about ready to collapse in on himself, as if he'd been punctured by Arthur's words and all the rage had whooshed straight out. _Alfred…_

"You're right, he wouldn't—but I wasn't there though, Arthur! I wasn't there and I should've been and now he's gone! How is that—how can I—I just want him back!" He pitched forward, curling down and around Arthur, knocking him fully into the wall with nothing to do but wrap Alfred up closer. So, he did that; he wrapped Alfred up as if he were no bigger than a child and ran what he hoped were soothing hands down his back, murmuring hushed words and comforts into his ear (which was ridiculous because it wasn't like Alfred would really 'hear' his words from there, but still…). Murmuring to calm down, that he was there, that they'd get Matthew back and all other sorts of nonsense that was supposed to mean something to Alfred.

His mother had done this when he'd been a boy, and Arthur remembered the soft gentle brush of her fingertips and her comforts against his cheek; she always managed to bring him back from whatever dark place his mind wandered to with the simple touches. He'd seen Alfred upset, sad, happy, and a whole plethora of other emotions before, but never quite at this magnitude, never quite with the shaking intensity he was trying to bundle up in his arms now. Arthur's chest ached for Alfred, for his pain and loss and helplessness at the situation—and he didn't know how to fix any of it. So, he held Alfred and hoped that the younger man took some comfort or peace in him, in his words, like he'd been able to take from his mother.

He held Alfred until the shaking subsided, and when Alfred pulled away enough for Arthur to reach, he wiped at his cheeks with his thumbs until the only evidence of his breakdown was left in the redness of his eyes. Alfred stared at him for a moment after and then ducked his head down, but he wrapped up Arthur close again. "It's not your fault either, Arthur."

_It's more mine than yours, you know that. _Because it was, and Arthur had to live with that, but he wasn't going to burden Alfred with anything else to worry about.

"No." The word was hot and fierce in Arthur's ear and Alfred pulled back so that their eyes met; Alfred's eyes were still wet, but they were also ablaze with purpose and conviction. "No, it's not. The only person I want you to blame is fucking Braginski. Only him, all right?"

_Alfr—_

Arthur's word choked off as Alfred swooped in and pressed a hot, demanding kiss to his lips. When Alfred pulled back, Arthur felt dizzy and off center and could only blink up at Alfred in response. "No, I know you're thinking it's because of you, but it's not, Arthur. It's not. I need you to not blame yourself because I _need_ you here and I—please, Arthur? Please don't."

He was babbling, speaking in half sentences that only made partial sense to Arthur, but he thought he knew what Alfred was trying to say, so he nodded. He'd try not to think the obvious about why Matthew had been taken so he could help Alfred with his own misplaced guilt. Because Alfred had just lost his brother…he couldn't lose Arthur too. He nodded again and again and Alfred clutched him even tighter, buried his face in Arthur's neck, and started shaking again, this time without the tears. And as he held him close, he whispered wild words into his neck, the words falling almost likes kisses would along his skin. Words that frightened Arthur because he knew Alfred meant them.

"I'm not going to let him take you, I won't. And he can't keep Mattie, I won't let him—I'll save him and you and kill Braginski if I have to. I will, I will I will. He can't have either of you."

And if Alfred meant them…how far would he go to keep them?

TBC…

_******USUKUSUKUSUK**_

Ok, first off, sorry for the impromptu hiatus. There were things going on...nothing bad, but very time-consuming. I will strive to make sure the next update isn't quite so long!

Second, I now have a tumblr. My handle is osco-blue-fairy. Feel free to follow me and poke me with questions, I'd be happy to chit-chat!

Third, a review, if you have time, would be lovely, as always.

Osco


	23. Chapter 23

Title : Of Silence and Thievery (23/34)  
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance  
Pairings: USUK main, minor others (Seychelles/France, Spain/Romano, Prussia/Hungary/Austria, etc)  
Rating: R  
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times  
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.

* * *

_**Of Silence and Thievery**_

_Chapter Twenty-Three: Where Everyone Worries (About One Thing or Another)_

Tino hated being separated from any of his brothers, but he'd never had to deal with a long separation before, not since they all were called to the woods and had been blessed by the Balance. Sure, Oskar liked to abscond and explore the outer-reaches of the Nords every now and then, and sometimes Nikolai or Mathias would go off on their own for a few days, but they had always remained close enough for Tino to feel them. Berwald didn't like to leave period; ice was a stationary and fixed, it preferred routine and calm. And so did Berwald, which meant Tino could always feel him nearby. Nikolai had been gone for over two moons though, the longest time any of them had ever been gone before; Tino knew he was far away because he could barely sense him anymore. None of them could, not even Mathias, and it was starting to make them uneasy.

The Balance had blessed all five of them with the elements when they'd been younger, and as such, they had become each other's family. None of them had any family they'd had to leave behind when they came into their power, which was something Tino thought the Balance took into consideration when it had been looking for new elemental vessels. Tino knew he was in the minority with his thinking, but to him, the Balance wasn't some nebulous concept that worked without thought and solely by chance. He thought, like his brothers did, that the Balance was more than just sentient. It was proactive. It was more like a higher being, what the southerners called gods, and it worked deliberately throughout the world to ensure its own safety and that of everyone under it. Most in the Nords thought this way, but Nordsmen had the benefit of always being selected to embody the elements, so their history with the Balance was different than others.

Those who kept the old ways thought this way too. The Faerie and those who practiced magic, they all knew the Balance was something more than a platitude to get children to behave or a metaphysical concept to preach about on the equinoxes and solstices.

The Balance had been clear to each of them when they'd been chosen; they were wardens of the elements and protected the north from the blackness that pressed down from the Wastelands. They were granted a shocking amount of power and a heavy responsibility—they stayed in the Nords to serve the Balance and they stayed together. None of them had been comfortable with Nikolai leaving in the first place, but now, after he'd been gone so long, they all _needed_ him back.

Tino took a deep breath and reached deep into the earth to pull up clay from the ground; he was sitting at his pottery wheel and in desperate need of a distraction from the ache Nikolai's absence stirred in his bones. Mathias and Oskar were both close, probably down by the river, and Berwald was inside their house, cooking something for dinner for all of them; Tino couldn't help reaching down deep and feeling for Nikolai just a little. All he got was a wisp of something that told him Nikolai was alive before it slipped away; Tino sighed and frowned down at his wheel as he wet the clay and started spinning.

He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if the Balance had let Nikolai leave for so long, it was only because it was absolutely necessary. That didn't give him any sense of comfort though. If anything, it only intensified his concern for the Balance and what Ivan Braginski was doing to weaken it so badly. Tino felt it every time he reached into the earth, the cloying, suffocating decay and sickness that was getting more noticeable with each passing day. There was something very wrong with the Balance and it was starting to get serious—and the Balance wasn't standing idly by the wayside while Ivan subverted it. Because that's what Tino feared was happening; that Ivan was trying to change something so entirely fixed by the Balance that attempting to do so could only end in destruction and chaos. It was more than Ivan stealing life and Talent, more than hunting down those with greater Talent than himself and keeping them under lock and key. Sure, those were parts of it, but only a small part of the whole, the grand plan Ivan kept secret from all except a select few.

Tino wondered, not for the first time, how long the Balance had been preparing for this moment and if those preparations went beyond what Tino or his brothers could see. Ivan was much older than he looked and had been around before even their predecessors had been selected to carry the elements—Tino didn't believe the Balance was infallible and all knowing, but he did believe it saw the many paths and branches life could take and could prepare for some possibilities. He had to believe that; it was the only comfort he could find in knowing and _feeling_ what Ivan was doing to the Balance. His frown deepened as he curved the clay into a small lip for his newest pot, careful to keep the body of the pot slick so it wouldn't collapse in on itself. His mouth loosened a little as he felt Berwald come towards him and he leaned into the hand as it settled on his shoulder. Being earth's embodiment, he felt the connection with each of his brothers the strongest whenever he was working with his element; Berwald's presence was soothing and calm against his nerves. Berwald was always exactly what he needed.

"I'm fine, just thinking." Tino tilted his head up and gave Berwald a soft smile as the other man looked down at him with concern. When Tino had first met Berwald at the tender age of ten, he'd been scared out of his mind because it wasn't natural for any child to be as tall as Berwald was and he had been so cold at first. Still, it hadn't taken him long to realize that Berwald, for all his size and intimidation, was one of the kindest souls Tino had ever met; his only crime was that he was painfully shy and didn't always know how to interact with people. He scooted forward a little bit to make room for Berwald to join him on the bench; Berwald didn't hesitate and Tino sighed in contentment has Berwald wrapped an arm around Tino's waist, holding him close.

"U'r wr'rd." His words stilted and skipped every other letter, his jaw unable to pronounce them properly after his encounter with Ivan in the woods three years ago. It killed Tino to think that he would never be able to speak normally again, especially because Ivan had been looking for _him_ that day, not Berwald. His speech didn't bother Berwald though. Tino understood him, so did his brothers, and he had protected Tino and the Nords from Ivan; that was all he cared about and worth his speech issues, he'd told Tino on countless occasions. Tino sighed, and shrugged at Berwald's observation.

"I am worried. I'm worried about a lot of things—Nik mostly, but the Balance too. What it means for everyone if the Balance collapses. The end of the world as we know it and what if the Balance knew it was coming and chose us because of it. You know, those sorts of things." Tino shrugged as he stopped pedaling his wheel, letting the half-finished pot come to a lopsided stop. His hands were covered in clay, but that didn't stop Berwald from taking one into his own. "I know, not the brightest of things to think about."

Berwald made a noncommittal grunt and squeezed Tino's hand warmly. "W'n Nk's b'ck, 'tl be b'tr."

"I know, I just wish we knew when he'd be back—he's so far south, I can barely feel him, even covered in earth. I bet the warm oceans down south are driving him crazy. You know he hates even being a little bit warm." Berwald smiled just a little and Tino chuckled as he leaned away from the wheel and settled fully into Berwald's side. "You're worried too. About him and everything else."

"'F cr'se. L'ke y'u s'id, Bl'nce dsn't f'l r'ght." Tino nodded in agreement.

They were silent after that, soaking in the other and letting the other's presence help soothe some of their fears for at least a little while. Tino could feel Mathias and Oskar heading back to the house; he glanced up at Berwald from his shoulder. "Do you think the Balance is prepared enough to stop Ivan? Do you think we are, or Feliks is, or the _Evangeline's_ crew? I can't help but think that we've all been brought together in a way no other Talent-born people have before. I know our predecessors had little to no contact with anyone outside of the forest, let alone the rest of the world and yet we have, with the same groups of people—it's almost like the Balance wants to set everything right, reverse all the damage Ivan has done and stop him from doing whatever he's trying to do, and we were picked to stop him. If Nikolai was anything like his predecessor, he would never have been able to handle the separation for so long, but Nikolai is so strong. It all seems like a perfectly constructed puzzle set to me."

Berwald met his stare before he looked over at Tino's concaved pot on the wheel. "I th'nk th't s'nds bo't r'ght. 'Lrd'y t'ld y'u wh't I th'ght wh'n 'Van 'ttck'd the 'Rth'r."

Arthur Kirkland—if Tino had needed any sort of confirmation that the Balance was sentient and knew exactly what it was doing, it would be Arthur Kirkland. He had a frightening Talent, something that was more powerful than anything Tino had ever heard of before, and in the wrong hands, there was no telling what a Talent like that could do. But, the Balance had given that power to a man who had no interest in using it and lived in a country that was once rife with magic and had forgotten about it entirely. A man who viewed it as a nuisance that had ruined his perfectly ordinary life and thrown him into a whole new world he'd hadn't been prepared for. Who knew how Arthur's view of his Talent may have changed since Tino had last seen him, but the point remained; the Balance had given an unfathomable Talent to a man who had little, if any interest in it at all. Tino had already discussed this topic to death with his brothers after Nikolai and Mathias had witnessed Arthur use his Voice—that the Balance seemed to have just the person up its sleeve to stop Ivan.

But, that begged the question what cost the Balance expected in return. There was always a cost, no matter what.

"W're str'ng, T'no. So 're th'y. Th' Bl'nce kn'ws wh't's b'st." Tino smiled and pressed a swift kiss to his cheek in response; he did trust in the Balance and they were strong, stronger than most others before them. He pushed up to his feet and offered Berwald a clay-covered hand; he took it without hesitation. They were just about to head inside so Tino could clean up and help Berwald finish dinner before Mathias and Oskar got back, when they both felt it. Tino's breath caught in his chest and something that felt like relief, only a thousand times better, flooded down his veins like cool spring water in a stream.

Nikolai.

There weren't words, there never were when they communicated like this, but Tino didn't need them to understand what his brother was trying to say. Tino blinked and then Nikolai faded from him, leaving him strangely empty, but in a comforting way. Nikolai would be coming back soon and then the emptiness would go for good; he glanced up at Berwald and shared a brief, sad look with him before they headed inside. It was hard to remain happy for Nikolai's return when they knew the reason why he was coming back.

Alfred and his group knew about Matthew.

* * *

"Are you sure you're fine to head back? It took you two months just to get here; surely you could do with more than two days rest before traveling back to the Nords." Arthur watched as Seychelles' face pulled into a frown as she addressed Nikolai. The Nordsman looked unruffled, as usual, and waved off her concerns with a curt nod.

"I need to leave—I've been gone long enough as it is. I promise the rest you offered me aboard your ship is more than enough to get me home. It only took so long to find you in the first place because I kept stopping to search for you. I know my way back just fine." Nikolai glanced to the north and his lips upturned just a little; Arthur thought that was the closest thing to a smile he'd probably ever see on his face. Seychelles didn't look like she agreed but she nodded and called for her crew to get ready to pull up the anchor after Nikolai had left, striding down the deck with purpose and leaving Arthur alone with Nikolai.

Honestly, Arthur didn't know what the man wanted to discuss with him. He'd asked to speak with Arthur specifically before he left, but wouldn't say what about. Arthur's only interaction with the man, apart from delivering truly awful news, involved getting carried out of a forest after being attacked (not Arthur's finest moment). He hadn't really talked with him while he and Alfred had healed after the encounter with Ivan, and the little he had, it was mainly about why his Voice still worked, which Arthur had little information and even fewer theories about. He didn't have any more answers as to why it still did now than he did then, but since Nikolai had requested to speak with him directly, it only seemed polite to accept.

Plus, it allowed him to focus on something else for the moment, instead of Alfred and his brother and everything in that mess.

Nikolai met his eyes for a few silent moments before Arthur huffed silent and waved his quill imperiously at the Nordsman. It wasn't like Arthur could start a conversation or anything (he really despised having to write everything out, even after all these months…he'd taken to just leaving Alfred to translate for him lately—not so much an option now). Nikolai didn't react to Arthur's irritation, but he did start talking.

"I ran into your fairy friends in Spandow. They gave you that pendant, yes?" Arthur blinked and his fingers automatically went to the cool metal of the pendant. He nodded and narrowed his eyes in question.

**Yes. What of it?**

"I don't meet many people who've spoken with the Faerie outside of sorcerers and elders in the north, never mind someone who's been given a Faerie made gift. Did your family hold the Old Ways?"

Arthur hadn't the foggiest idea what Nikolai was referring to. The only real theocracy he'd grown up with in Britannia was that of the Lady and the way of Keeping Bloody Normal Lest You be Stoned to Death. **Britannia barely followed new ways, let alone whatever you're referring to. **

Nikolai nodded and inspected his fingernails. "I find it odd then that they presented themselves to you when you come from a land that despises the Balance and all its gifts and your family was not particularly connected with their world or traditions."

Oh, blast it. Arthur should have never taken the bloody thing, no matter how useful it was; he was getting sick of everyone and their mother commenting about how 'odd' and 'unusual' it was that a couple of bloody fairies (who had been rather irritating to tell the truth) had given him a stupid necklace. His annoyance must have shown on his face because Nikolai held up his hands in the universal sign of 'calm down, I didn't mean to offend.' Arthur sighed and scribbled messily on his tablet. **Why does everyone keeping harping on this bloody thing? I was under the impression that the fairies were on our side of this whole Ivan mess.**

"The Faerie don't give out gifts without a cost. What was yours for that pendant?"

**To stop Ivan. They said he was harming the earth. Funnily enough, I didn't think their conclusion that far-fetched. **Arthur flashed Nikolai his message and began scribbling down more. **Should I not have taken it? The way you all react…**

"And that's all they wanted, to stop Ivan? They didn't ask for anything else or word it differently?" Arthur rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders to signify he didn't know. It had been months ago, did Nikolai really expect Arthur to remember exact wording? They wanted help and Arthur had figured why not, since stopping Ivan had been his goal anyway (never mind that had been when he'd struggled most with his silence and was desperate for something to make him not so helpless, like he'd been in the Nords). Nikolai frowned, just enough to wrinkle his forehead, but he didn't press any further.

"Well, if that is the case, then I would count yourself a very fortunate man, Arthur Kirkland." Arthur didn't feel fortunate, but he nodded to Nikolai's words anyway, taking the opportunity to exit the conversation for what it was. Nikolai inclined his head once more and headed up the deck towards the front of the ship, leaving Arthur alone with nothing but a whole new onslaught of thoughts and doubts (as if he needed anymore of those, bloody hell). He watched Nikolai give terse goodbyes to most of the crew, and he watched Kiku hand him something with a small, kind smile. Probably food or something in a water-proof bag—Nikolai nodded to Kiku before he accepted the bag and continued towards the bow of the ship. Alfred was there, arms crossed and expression stormy, like it had been the last two days, and he clapped Nikolai roughly on the shoulder before stalking off; Arthur sighed and watched him go until he stomped into the ship.

Nikolai stepped onto the railing and held out an arm towards the waves, calling forth a column of water effortlessly, and Arthur watched as it began wrapping itself around Nikolai until the Nordsman looked like some sort of water nymph. And then, he was gone, back into the ocean and only the white waves gave away that Nikolai was speeding back home; Arthur felt an irrational pang of jealousy that Nikolai didn't have to think very hard about where his home was (but he shoved it down because, honestly, how old was he? Five?). He continued to watch Nikolai until he faded from sight, leaving nothing but blue, open waters to stare at. Seychelles began shouting orders and the crew slipped back into their familiar roles, the ship erupting into the usual curses and yells as everyone got back to sailing, got back to their mission. Arthur stared out at everyone and fingered the pendant around his neck.

He didn't want to feel like he'd made a huge mistake in taking the pendant and using it, because the pendant had brought about so much good. Being able to 'speak' to Alfred, it had done more for Arthur than he cared to think about. He wasn't suited for silence, and after how easily he had been overtaken by Ivan in the Nords, it had scared him how much he relied on his words to protect himself. The pendant had helped with that fear and being able to 'talk' without the stupid tablet had been a relief. It had also helped Arthur get over his bloody self about his relationship with Alfred. The pendant _had_ done good things.

But.

And there was a but, because now, Arthur was wondering if the potential 'bad' the pendant brought, and no one was very clear on what that could be (beyond cryptic warnings that made little to no sense), outweighed the good. He was wondering if he'd been tricked into believing two fairies that maybe hadn't about his well-being, despite how they claimed they treated those who could see them with respect. He was wondering if there had been more to his promise to help than he remembered. He was wondering if putting the pendant on and using it had been the worst mistake he'd ever made. He was wondering why he had even seen the fairies in the first place—and more so if that had anything to do with his Voice and how at of all the people in world, _he'd_ been the one to get his Talent. He let out a long breath and let the pendant drop back to his skin, turning to head back inside to the navigation room where he could at least distract himself with something useful, something he had control over.

He was coming to realize that he had control over little else in his life.

* * *

Alejandro was a quiet man, but that did not mean he was stupid.

So often, being quiet and keeping to himself meant that others assumed he had no opinion of his own, because he did not voice them. That he had no beliefs of his own, because he did not flaunt them in everyone's faces. That he had no deep thoughts of his own because he was more talented with a sword than he was with numbers. That was the impression everyone made of Alejandro, and generally, it was one he didn't bother to fight because if everyone thought him an idiot, no one expected anything from him until it was too late. It was a convenient feint, one he didn't need to practice, and it was useful in all kinds of battles. It kept him alive when Ivan had found him and ripped the fire-breath out of his throat, when Ivan had been convinced he was a dumb brute who would never try to hunt him down so hadn't bothered to kill him when Alejandro had been defeated.

But, of all the people Alejandro had met in his travels, only Matthew Jones had seen through the feint. Sure, his current band of companions knew him now and knew he was more than a large man with a sword, but he knew they'd thought little of him at least once before realizing they were wrong. Not Matthew though—Matthew had been more aware than anyone Alejandro had ever met and had _seen_ him without even knowing him. Had looked straight at him when they'd first met and dispelled any preconceived notions he'd had over what kind of man a brother of Alfred Jones could be. He was kinder and smarter and stronger than anyone gave him credit for, and for that, he understood exactly who Alejandro was without being shown anything but a big man with a sword.

Alejandro had never been with a man before, and if he was being honest with himself, he knew he would always be more attracted to a woman's curves and softness than a man's hard muscle, but Matthew was different. Alejandro still wasn't sure whatever he felt for Matthew could even be classified as romantic, but it was more than he'd ever felt about someone in his life. They weren't really even anything official, despite what most of the crew thought, but Alejandro had never minded; he was content to discover whatever they were slowly before diving into anything without thinking things through (like Alfred and the mute, Arthur, had). Finding what exactly they were without the complications of sex was a nice change of pace for Alejandro, and the more he grew to know Matthew, the more he began to think that maybe they might just be a good match for one another.

But now Matthew was gone, taken by Ivan, and Alejandro felt a cold, sick twist of regret in his stomach. He may never be able to say all that he wanted to say but couldn't find the right words for before. He could understand why Feliks had been so irrational after Toris had been taken now. Everyone had seen those two dance around each other for months, clearly besotted but never saying a word until it was too late. He had thought Feliks a fool then, for letting his emotions lead him to abandoning his companions and for never saying anything; now, Alejandro felt the fool. For the first time in a long while he felt that maybe his feint wasn't so much of an act the longer he kept it up.

He knew they were heading towards Ivan's hide-out, and he trusted the mu-Arthur enough to believe him when he told them Ivan was hiding out in Ruthenia, and that Matthew in all likelihood was there. The captain had spoken with him and promised him that if Matthew was being held in Ivan's mountain fortress, they would rescue him, free him and keep him safe. She cared about Matthew too, but he doubted Matthew would be kept safe once Ivan realized they were invading his mountain, assuming he didn't discover their intent before then. Ivan had taken Matthew because he wanted to cause Alfred pain—he did not think Ivan would leave Matthew unguarded the moment he discovered they were coming for him.

There was something unnatural about the way Ivan Braginski focused on Alfred Jones—that had only been one of many things Alejandro and Matthew had agreed on.

Alejandro had been glad when the Nordsman left; with him there, all Alejandro could think about was the news he brought with him. All he could think about was Matthew's warm, open smile being crushed by ice and an iron fist until all that was left was a hollowed-out shell. Alejandro knew Matthew was much stronger than that and wouldn't give up so easily, but logic had little to do with dreams. With the Nordsman gone, Alejandro could focus; he could put aside all of his regret and fear and channel it into something useful. He could function again. Matthew would never wallow; Alejandro knew he was likely doing everything in his power to escape on his own, even if it was futile. And if Matthew could persevere, he could too.

Alfred, however, was not as strong as his brother was.

Alejandro watched Alfred as he trained in the weapons room, watched the young man hit and duck and parry and hack with all the rage he felt, all the rage he made sure everyone knew he felt. His brother's abduction had hit them both hard, but Alejandro suspected he was dealing with the fall-out better than Alfred was. He watched him train in silence for a bit longer, and then cleared his throat as he stepped into the room as well. Alfred was not wearing his glasses and his eyes were too bright and too angry without them; he looked almost feral, like the wild javelinas from his homeland, who were always ready to charge simply because it could and wanted to. Alejandro met his stare and wrapped his fists in the protective tape Kiku insisted they always have on board.

Alejandro did not like Alfred Jones, and he suspected Alfred would never like him either, but they always had at least one thing in common. And that one thing had been stolen away from them right under their noses. Alejandro knew that Arthur had tried to calm him down the same way the captain had tried with him, and he also knew that he'd had probably as much success as the captain. They didn't need comfort and false promises. Alejandro was not a dumb man—he knew exactly what both of them needed, even if one needed it more than the other.

"If you wish to spar, a partner is more useful than an unmoving dummy."

Alfred stared at him, but then moved to put the practice dummy away after a moment's deliberation, clearing the small training ring for them to spar. Alejandro nodded his head and stepped into the space without another word. He rolled his shoulders and neck until he felt them shift and pop; Alfred stepped back in front of him and stared at Alejandro with the intensity an owl would have when hunting for rabbits at night—Alejandro relaxed and waited for whatever words Alfred wanted to say.

"We're going to get him back. I don't care if it's dangerous or hard or if it means we have to travel all over the damn world again to find him. I'm not leaving Mattie to _him_. Are you in?" Alfred's eyes sparked in anger and despite Alejandro's control over his emotions so far, he felt the same anger ignite in his blood. He grunted out a yes and dipped his head forward; Alfred's returning smile was hard. Alfred dropped into a fighting stance and Alejandro mirrored the action, a grim, almost-smile snaking its way across his face.

"Good." And, with that, they flew at each other.

TBC...

* * *

Sorry for the delay. I took an impromptu hiatus from writing for a bit. I am back now and have a few of these chapters stockpiled so there should be a more regular posting schedule to the end of this story. I'm shooting for once every 1-2 weeks or so until complete (this is subject to change, I'm still wrapping up the story and my ability to meet this posting schedule depends on how much time I have to write, but it shouldn't be as long as the most recent gap was).

Reviews are lovely. If you like, you can follow me now on tumblr! My url is osco-blue-fairy

Osco


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